Saga of the Wolf: Wolfheart, Wolflight, Wolfsong
by RK9
Summary: A female joins the Fellowship on their journey. The thing is, she's not exactly human...She's not a 10th member of the Fellowship, don't worry. Not a Mary-Sue either. Working on next chapter, poem added to chap 48.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** I don't own, except for my OFC.

**Summary: **A female joins the Fellowship in their journey. The only thing is, she's not exactly human…

**Author's notes:** This is an AU fic, for those who missed it, told from a very unique POV, with a different storyline that explores more of the spiritual aspect of Tolkien's amazing masterpiece. Don't just read the first chapter and cry Mary Sue - the first few chapters were written quite a few years back, when characters of this type were less common, and I didn't change much from my notes. However, I've been told that my OC is still original and non-MS, and that the story is a good read, so do give it a chance. :)

**Update 4th June 08:** A reviewer pointed out that my OC would be Legolas' cousin. I finally noticed it too - Oropherion, which would give her the same grandfather as Legolas. Yeah, so I changed the name to avoid confusion and such. My apologies to all. Also, changed the name of her hometown because I forgot that Laketown is not near Rivendell, it's near the Lonely Mountains. It's been a while since I read 'The Hobbit', and I got mixed up. Sorry again, everyone. I took a look at some maps, but couldn't find any towns near Rivendell so I made up a name. Sorry again!

**Update 23rd April 09:** Have added a quote for the beginning of the fic, I know my character isn't a horse but the feeling and emotions behind the quote sets the mood.

**We begin with a quote for the fic:**

_"The story that I want to tell you cannot be found in a book. They say that the history of the west was written from the saddle of a horse, but it's never been told from the heart of one. Not till now. I was born here, in this place that would come to be called the Old West. But, to my kind, the land was ageless. It had no beginning and no end, no boundary between earth and sky. Like the wind in the buffalo grass, we belonged here, we would always belong here. They say the mustang is the spirit of the West. Whether that west was won or lost in the end, you'll have to decide for yourself, but the story I want to tell you is true. I was there and I remember. I remember the sun, the sky, and the wind calling my name in a time when wild horses ran free. I'll never forget the sound and the feeling of running together. The hoof beats were many, but our hearts were one."_

- _Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron movie, as narrated by Matt Damon  
_

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**Prologue**

_Nine companions and one pony. That was who I had been following since their departure from Rivendell this morning. They moved fast and were traveling light, taking with them only what they truly needed for a long journey. I didn't know who they were, or where they were going. All I know was that I was supposed to follow them. _

_Right around now, you're probably wondering why. _

_Well, I'll tell you: _I don't know_. But I do know how it all began. _

_This all began when an Elven noble named Saeduil Caellion fell in love with a human woman named Annie. Their relationship was frowned upon by both their families, but it was also the kind of love that people usually only ever find once in a lifetime. You know, the forever kind, the kind that goes beyond all other things and is deeper than the oceans, higher than the heavens, and more amazing that words can say. _

_Unfortunately, Saeduil and Annie were forced to separate, and Saeduil returned to his people, and Annie to hers. He was killed in a battle against orcs about a year or so after, and so he never found out that Annie had given birth to his daughter – namely, me. _

_I grew up in Tamra, the human dwelling near Rivendell. Shunned for my half-Elven heritage, I was frequently lonely, and I never had many friends. I spent most of my time reading, helping my mother with her work as the town healer, or wandering the woods near Rivendell – though I never dared to venture too close. I longed to meet my father's people, a longing inspired by the many tales my mother had told me about my father. _

_Instead, during my daily jaunts in the woods, I met a young human named Estel, who became my first and only friend. We spent much time together, me teaching him about humans, and he teaching me about Elves. But when it came to the time of my sixteenth birthday, our friendship ended, for my mother had decided to move to be with her mother's family in another village. So we left, a bittersweet moment that I remember to this day._

_After the move, things went from bad to worse. On my twenty-first birthday, my mother succumbed to an illness and passed away. Still, that did not stop the village from throwing a celebration for me, in the hopes of cheering me up. Instead, I got on the wrong side of a wizard who was passing through town, rejecting his unwanted amorous advances. He retaliated by cursing me into the form that I'm in now, and not even the wise healer-woman of the village could turn me back, for whether knowingly or not, when he had cast his spell he had called upon a far darker power than any we had ever encountered before – the power of the Necromancer who had once ruled in Dol Guldur, near Mirkwood. Perhaps you know him by his current name – Sauron. _

_Tanana, our healer, tried to help me still. She stayed by my side through the years as I adjusted to living as an animal – to be specific, as a wolf, allowing me to stay in her home while at the same time teaching me the things that normal wolf pups learned as they grew, like hunting and surviving on my own in the forest. And then, one day, the vision came, and she called me to her. _

"_Little love, you must go to Rivendell, and join forces with the Nine Walkers. They will be setting out on a great Quest, and I can say no more except that you must go with them. And perhaps, if all goes well, you can regain your true form once again. Go to Rivendell, young one, for it there that you will find your place on the path unwinding, and perhaps also love and happiness along the way."_

_And so, here I am, following nine companions, and one pony. I don't know what going to happen, or where we're going, but I feel that Tanana was right. I'm meant to be here. Deep within my heart, my soul, a song is beginning, destiny calling me…and so I will follow. _

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RK9.


	2. Pushing Forward

**Disclaimer:** See prologue.

**Chapter 1 **

Two days we had been traveling, and we had finally reached the region of Hollin. I hadn't been wasting my time, learning about the Company as I followed their path.

Though if I really thought about it, there really wasn't much else I could be doing while trailing them across country.

The four short ones were Hobbits, or Halflings. The quiet one with dark hair was Frodo, and the other three were Merry, Pippin, and Sam. Sam was my favorite, for I saw that he was kind, with a heart of gold – especially where animals were concerned. He was usually next to the pony, whom he called Bill, leading him along by a short rope as they walked. Aside from that, he seemed to consider himself the chief cook and bottle washer, for when it came time for meals and such, he would usually be the one holding the frying pan – and his cooking smelt delicious, I don't mind telling you. To my wolf nose it was both heaven and torture at the same time, since I knew I wouldn't be eating any of the scrumptious foods that he made!

Then there was the Dwarf, Gimli. He was the main voice of complaint, and wasn't afraid to let others know what he was thinking. He and the Elf didn't get along, but then, that was to be expected due to the strife that usually existed between the two races. The Elf? His name was Legolas, and I remembered vaguely that he was the Prince of Mirkwood… I remembered my conversations with Estel even to this day, and Estel had told me once of Legolas Thranduilion, whom he had befriended when the Prince had come to Rivendell on an errand for his father the King.

Besides them, was the wizard, tall and wise and intimidating in his gray robes. Gandalf the Gray they called him, or just Gandalf. He was usually in front to lead the way, and Frodo, I could see, loved him as a son might love a father, or perhaps a beloved uncle, and Gandalf seemed to care for him as well. Watching them often brought thoughts of my own father to mind, along with some jealousy – I'd never been able to have that kind of relationship with my father, or anyone else. I'd missed a father figure my whole life, and I'd always been so envious of the other children and their fathers. They had no idea how lucky they were.

Oh, yes, and finally there were the two Men. Boromir of Gondor was the fairer one, the one with golden hair. The other was dark and somehow familiar, and I felt that I knew him from somewhere, though I could not place him in my mind. Aragorn was his name, a Ranger from the North, one of the Dunedain. There was an aura of destiny around him, and if nothing else I knew that he was more than he appeared to be.

Yes, that was all of them. I settled myself carefully under a holly tree, one of the many that populated this area and gave this place it's name. My belly was grumbling slightly as the scent of something frying floated over to me on the breeze. Sam was making something for lunch, apparently, and I could see Frodo sitting near him on a rock as the two smiled and chatted, even laughing as they watched the other two of their kin learning swordplay from Boromir under the relaxed supervision of Aragorn, who was idly sitting on a stone. The clang of metal on metal was rather harsh on my wolf ears, but I had long grown used to how sensitive my hearing could be in this body.

One thing I could hear even more clearly, though, was the sound of Gimli's rough, rumbly voice as he spoke earnestly to Gandalf not far away.

"I anyone was to ask for my opinion, which I note they're not," he rumbled, "I'd say we were taking the long way round. Gandalf, we could pass through the Mines of Moria. My cousin, Balin, would give us a royal welcome."

This sounded interesting. Any possible hints as to where we were headed would be very nice, so I decided I should probably be listening closely. Crawling forward on my belly, I pricked my ears and strained my slightly poor wolf vision to hear and see the wizard's response. The briefest hint of surprise shot through Gandalf's eyes, before it was gone and he was removing his pipe from his mouth to respond.

"No, Gimli," he stated quietly, "I would not take the road through Moria unless I had no other choice."

Gimli's back was to me, more's the pity, so I could not see his expression, but movement from the Elf caught my attention and I turned. Almost subconsciously, my fur began to bristle, and I felt a cold feeling moving down my spine. The wolf in me took over, and I got to my paws.

Had I seen how I looked right then, I might have been afraid of myself. There was a puddle of water that I passed, but though I glanced at my reflection it did not register in my mind, at least not until later. My dark brown fur with its salt and pepper markings was bristling fiercely, my golden eyes burning with a slow fury from a place deep inside that I hadn't even known existed. My fangs were bared, and a growl rumbled from deep in my throat and chest as I was caught up in my wolf instincts that sensed the approach of something evil, something dark and wrong and just plain _bad_. My blood was boiling, and I was itching to fight.

"Crebain, from Dunland!" cried Legolas, and suddenly the Fellowship was in a whirl of activity as the fire was quickly put out, and things were hidden away before they ducked under rocks and bushes to hide themselves.

Why were they hiding? Shouldn't they be getting ready to fight? Confusion cleared some of my battle-lust, and I crouched down, blinking quickly. Just in time, too, for the flock of bird-like creatures soon passed overhead, and the beating of many wings assaulted my sensitive hearing, causing me to whimper and put my paws over my ears, an instinctive attempt to block out all sound.

I'll tell you, it doesn't really work, no more than jamming your fingers in your nose to stop yourself from smelling does.

As soon as the evil birds had passed, Gandalf emerged from beneath a rock. "Spies of Saruman!" he exclaimed. "The passage South is being watched. We must take the Pass of Caradhas."

Saru-whosis? The Pass of Caradhas? I frowned. So much for eavesdropping – I couldn't even understand what they were talking about!

It was another two day's journey towards the mountains, I found out. The Fellowship began to find it harder to find food, and so I helped them, catching rabbits and squirrels and leaving them by the fire. But I got careless – while the others were out hunting for food and firewood, I went to leave one final rabbit by the flames. And Sam caught me, coming back earlier than I had expected with an armful of twigs. He froze. So did I, but then I remembered that this hobbit was no warrior. He was a passive, gentle creature, and probably more afraid of me than I was of him.

"Hyeeeah! Take that, you vicious beast! Strider, Gandalf, where are you? You get lost, you! Take that!"

Twigs started flying at me, some narrowly missing my head and eyes, and one hit me hard enough to open a small cut on my head near my left eye.

Okay, so I might have been _slightly_ mistaken about the passive and gentle part.

Crouching low and moving my ears back against my head in what I hoped was a non-threatening expression, I dropped the rabbit on the ground and slowly backed out of camp. Once there, I ran. Sam's shouts would surely bring the Ranger and the Wizard, and the last thing I needed was for either of them to find me and label me a threat. The cut on my head stung, air blowing into it as I ran, but there was no help for it – I couldn't even lick it better, that area was a little beyond my reach. Finally, deeming myself safe, I found myself a sleeping place beneath a bush and settled down for the night.

I still had no idea why I was even here. Should I really put so much faith in Tanana's Sight, her prophecy and wisdom? Before that, my mother had often told me to create my own destiny, not follow the path others told me to. I wasn't sure if this counted, though, for I'm sure not even my beautiful, wise mother could have foreseen that I would be cursed, to walk for goodness knew how long in the form of a wolf.

I just didn't know anything anymore. And that night, beneath the twinkling stars and silent moon, I felt more alone than I ever had before in my entire life.

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The sun was high in the sky when I woke up, and when I checked, the Fellowship was long gone. No matter, for with my wolf senses I could easily find them again. My stomach was empty, calling for breakfast, and so I headed into the woods to hunt. I found a rabbit burrow and crouched down outside, hiding behind a bush. My patience was rewarded – after a while, a plump female rabbit came out, whiskers twitching and ears pricked as she tried to ascertain whether or not there was danger. There was, of course – me. But by the time she found out, she wouldn't be alive to worry about it.

One of the things I had learned long ago while adjusting to this body was that while mice were sensitive to the vibrations of one's pawsteps on the ground, rabbits would hear you coming first, with their sensitive ears. The idea was to step quietly, and be careful not to be heard. Stepping out from behind the bush, I moved with the silent grace of a hunter, my eyes fixed on my prey. The wolf that was a part of me was hungry, merciless, and though I as a human wasn't happy at the idea of killing a harmless rabbit, I did know that if I didn't, I myself would die. Kill or be killed - it was the law of nature and in this form, I had to obey that law.

I pounced, burying my fangs in the soft rabbit throat and finishing her with one swift bite, before dragging her away to a safe spot to eat.

It had bothered me once, this way of life. When I'd first started I'd tried living on scraps that Tanana would give me, but there was no denying the wolf's killing instincts. One day, while out in the woods, I'd seen a wounded hawk. The wolf had reacted at once, even though I wasn't all that hungry. Before I knew what I'd done, the hawk was dead, a bloody heap of feather's lying still beneath my paws, and I was pulling out feathers and eating hungrily. I think that was the moment that I knew – scraps from human hands weren't going to cut it for the wolf, for _me_. It was like crossing a line within me, and there could be no turning back or denying what I knew to be true. This was my curse, and until the spell was broken, I had to live with who and what I was.

That day I left Tanana and started trying to live on my own in the woods. I was always welcomed back whenever I felt like returning, but for the most part I embraced my new self, and the wolf became a part of me.

Having finished my meal, I headed for a nearby spring to wash the blood and fur from my paws and face, and to drink my fill. Higher up, where the snow covered the ground and cold reigned supreme, I knew food and water would be scarce, if not nonexistent. But no matter – hadn't I decided to follow the Fellowship, wherever they might go? I would have to trust to hope, for I had no other choice.

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Later, it was only sheer determination that drove me forward through the snow, which bit into me with the strength of a thousand wolves – wolves sent by the power of Nature herself. Although my pelt was built for cold weather, I could not handle this terrible chill. Combined with the complete lack of food and water, I was nearly done for. The Fellowship was probably leagues ahead of me by now. Fool that I was. How could I have expected to make it through? This had been the errand of a fool from the very beginning. Despair gnawed at me; it was hopeless!

The wind howled around me, deafening, blinding, furious. It didn't want me here. I thought of the Fellowship, of the mixed band of nine. Had they made it through the Pass safely? Or had the wind and snow defeated them as well? I thought of the hobbits, of Gandalf – but surely the wizard had the power to keep even Caradhas at bay?

Perhaps, but even a great wizard had his limits against Nature herself. I choked and snorted as snow went up my nose. This was too much. I couldn't survive. I had to turn back – perhaps there was another way?

As my hope and courage faltered, I turned. But perhaps I was weaker than I thought I was, for my next step had me sprawled on the ground, unable to get up. Blackness tinged the edges of my vision, and I heard a soft whimper of fear and pain escape me – and suddenly, I was afraid. The darkness grew, seeming to stamp out all the light I could see around me, and it was like a hole opened up beneath me as I fell…

It was strange, but it felt that even as I fell it seemed that gentle hands picked me up again, and suddenly the darkness didn't seem so frightening anymore.

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	3. The First Stone

**Disclaimer:** See previous chapters.

**Chapter 2**

_The wind blew, gently caressing my fur with unseen fingers. Somewhere, a bird was singing, the song that others of its kind had been singing from the Beginning. The melody of Nature swirled around me, comforting me, touching my heart, bringing gentle warmth that began from deep inside. I opened my eyes. _

_I was standing on the edge of a cliff, my paws on soft grass that tickled my pads. I had no idea where I was, but it seemed peaceful, quiet, filled with the sounds and smells of the forests that I had grown to love. The sense that I was surrounded by safety and love comforted me – the only people who had ever given me those feelings were my mother and Estel, and it had been a while since I'd felt such peace. _

_**- You've missed out on a great many things, haven't you, little one? Things no child should be without. But you've made it through well enough, I would say. -**  
_

_Startled by the sudden female voice, I jerked, but my wolf senses were surprisingly calm, relaxed. _

_**- Daughter of Huan, you have nothing to fear from me. -**  
_

_Huan? Who was Huan? My father's name had been Saeduil, not Huan. I twisted, trying to find the body behind the voice. _

_**- Oh, but I am not here in body, little one. -** Laughter tinged her tone, and I frowned. She could read my thoughts? _

_**- I brought you here to give you a gift. It is one you will be needing. You will know what to do with it when the time comes. Little one, they will need you, more than you'll ever know. You will be their Light, shining out for all to see no matter how hard the Darkness tries to hide you, or destroy you. -**  
_

_I raised one skeptical eyebrow. If this was a dream, then I really needed to keep my subconscious checked – seemed like maybe I had a little surplus pride in myself. _

_Again, there was musical, tinkling laughter. **- Here, little one. Wear this around your neck with pride. You have proven to us all that you have plenty of Courage. Following the Fellowship into the unknown, even into uncertain death, and for no apparent reason other than that you feel that you are needed – that takes a certain kind of courage that is not so easily found these days. May this remind you of the fire that must burn in times of need. -**  
_

_A soft sensation started around my throat, a feeling as though several little butterflies had settled there, and I twisted my head in an attempt to see what was happening. I couldn't, though, and finally I turned and made a beeline for a clear pool of water that I saw nearby, to see what my reflection could show me. Gazing in, I saw that a soft glow surrounded my throat, and I stared in surprise. What on earth…? _

_Then, as it faded, I saw that a fine silver chain had been fastened around my neck somehow, and on it was one shining stone. It was orange in color, blazing like fire, like a brilliant sunset contained in one receptacle. And when I touched it with a paw, I felt warmed by the power inside of it, and I knew what it was._

_Courage. This was the gift the Voice had given to me? I started to look around, but then a brilliant light started above my head, and before I knew it I was being taken into it – _

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"Oh, you poor thing. I had a feeling you were still following us, I did, and I wish I'd been wrong – you're frozen almost stiff. Don't die on me, now, please wake up!"

It was the soft pleading that woke me up, gave me the strength to open my eyes. I wasn't where I had been – no, it seemed someone had brought me down to a lower part of the mountain, where there was less snow and more grass, and blessed warm sunlight that shone on my face as I tilted my head up. The remnants of the strange dream still lingered, and I felt as though someone expected a great deal of me, perhaps more than I could give?

An unfamiliar warmth around my neck brought my gaze down. Feeling with a paw, I found the stone.

"You're awake, then!"

I turned to see Sam looking at me, an expression of joy and relief on his face. I blinked at him in confusion. Had he brought me here? My body ached, and I felt exhausted and weak.

"Here -" the kind little hobbit placed some strips of dried meat on the ground in front of me, and gave me a sip from a strange vial that looked to be of Elven make. "_Miruvor_, they said it was called, a gift from the Elves. It'll give you your strength back in a jiffy. I don't know why you're following us, but I don't have to be Gandalf to feel that you can't possibly be evil. Maybe I'm wrong, I dunno. But on the off-chance that I'm right, Mistress Wolf, you should know – where we're going isn't a place you want to go. Well, they'll be expecting me back – I told them I'd left something behind, and they're waiting for me lower down. Take care, Mistress Wolf, and I don't mean to be rude – but I'm hoping I won't be seeing you again until this is all over, for your own sake."

And with that, the kind little hobbit got to his feet, capping the vial of _miruvor_ and trotting off. He only glanced back once, and I saw in his eyes that he expected this to be his last goodbye to me. I tried to show gratefulness in my expression, and I think he understood.

A small body, but a big heart of gold.

And he was right – the _miruvor _had definitely given me back some strength – not all, but enough for me to crawl forward and snap up the meat he'd left. Then, after a drink from the small stream he'd placed me next to, I got unsteadily to my paws, feeling like maybe I could actually make it back down the mountain this time.

It seemed that the Fellowship had been turned back by the mountain as well. Sam must have spotted me, by some stroke of sheer luck, and for whatever reason of his own, he had chosen to help me without involving the others. My heart went out to the little Halfling – he probably didn't realize it, but he'd saved my life. Without the food and drink, I wouldn't have had the strength to help myself. I would have died in the snow, alone and helpless. But I doubted that he knew that – all he'd seen was a creature in need, and he'd helped me because he wanted to. Because he could.

They were lucky, the other eight, to know him as a friend.

They were lucky to have each other.

Grunting, I heaved myself upright. I would do no one any good by lying down here like a clump of dirt. Time for me to start tracking the Fellowship again.

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In my weakened state, it took me two days to catch up to the Fellowship again, but I stayed on their trail and traveled as quickly as I could to catch up. I finally caught up to them as they settled for the night in a small forest clearing, with the Dwarf on night watch. He settled down on a stump by the edge of the clearing, axe within easy reach, and took out a pipe to smoke. The smoke tickled my nose, but thankfully not enough to make me start coughing.

For some reason, it calmed me to be near them again, close enough to hear and see and smell them. Sam, I watched with a fond eye now – I owed him a debt that most people found quite impossible to repay. I was still wary of Gandalf, and of the Elf and Boromir, but the hobbits I liked, and Aragorn… ah, yes, Aragorn.

I couldn't shake the feeling that I knew him, somehow. He seemed so familiar… but I couldn't place him. He reminded me of someone, he really did. But who?

But even as I pondered, a long howl jerked the wolf in me from my thoughts. The sound echoed direly in the night, and my fur began to bristle – though not from anger, but from fear. That was the call of a rival pack, probably a pack that resided in this area – and I could tell that they were warning each other of unwanted presences in their territory. They might have tolerated the presence of Men, Elves, Dwarves and Hobbits, and even a Maia, but me? A lone wolf waltzing through their home? No way they were going to let that happen. Maybe I should move on, to keep the Fellowship safe?

_Eyes in the darkness, snarls in the night._

Too late. I got to my feet, tense and edgy. The wolf in me was ready to fight. The real me, on the other paw, was scared silly.

And then, inside my mind, I saw the symbol of a glowing orange sun, and warm courage flowed through me just as Gimli sensed that they were no longer alone and raised the alarm. The stone at my throat was shining fiercely, lighting the darkness, and I felt its warmth seeping into me, giving me strength.

Giving me courage.

Movement!

A large male wolf, one who had lived many seasons and seen many battles, leapt into the clearing with a growl. The scars that covered his face and body were like the wolf version of medals, each a mark of his experience, and how many fights he had been in and won. His fur was a rough gray-brown, patchy in some places, long in others – probably from scuffles he had been in, I knew. His raised tail, head and ears told me that he was an alpha, the leader of his pack – none of the wolves in his pack would dare raise their tails or heads above his, for fear or incurring his wrath. It would be like a soldier challenging his king, but the alpha of a pack would not be as merciful about such a challenge as a human king might be.

He stood there, unafraid of the Fellowship, who had drawn their weapons and now stood ready to fight, the warriors forming a protective barrier in front of the hobbits, who had their own little swords drawn. Daggers, really, but swords to them. The wolf studied them, and I could practically see him considering his options. His pack began to emerge from the trees, slinking steadily along the ground towards him. This far south, most of them had gray-brown peltage, and there was even one skinny black male with an eager air about him – the youngest of them all, probably excited about facing his first battle and more than willing to prove himself as a warrior.

Standing there, I knew I had two choices. One, I could choose to ignore this battle, maybe even turn and run. Or two, I could join the fight, and face the consequences later. I confess – I seriously pondered both. I was afraid of the idea: going up against an entire pack on my own? It'd be suicide! I was just one wolf, and I'd never really been in battle. Hunting was one thing, fighting quite another.

Despite this, there was a part of me that rebelled fiercely at the idea of running away. I was the daughter of an Elven prince, and my mother might not have been a full-blooded Dunedain, but she had traces of the blood of Numenor running through her veins, traces that she had passed on to me. I was descended from a long line of heroes, so to speak, and I knew I was no coward. What would my father say if I turned and ran?

The stone around my throat grew even warmer, the glow almost blinding now. The alpha male looked my way, growling. He'd noticed me. Then, Legolas the Elf released one of his arrows, and he turned back. The arrow had grazed his ear, but if Legolas had been hoping to scare him off, it wasn't going to work. He was angry now.

When the leader lunged at the person nearest to him – Boromir - flicking his tail in a clear signal for attack, I leapt out too. The stone was very hot now, burning through my fur, the orange glow that now surrounded me fierce and intense as I blazed into the clearing. Fear left me as I leapt at one wolf – a brown female with black streaks and only one eye - replaced with only a determination to protect the Fellowship. I snarled and lunged, biting deep into her shoulder, feeling her retaliate by slashing her fangs down my side. She slammed me into the ground, knocking me off her and crushing the breath from me, and I saw stars, but got up again. There was a glint in her eye that said she would enjoy killing me, and I knew instinctively that she was a wolf who had seen battles before. Her one eye was testament to that.

One eye. She was blind on her left side.

An idea hit me hard all at once. I rushed her on her right side, and her head whirled as she prepared to meet me with fangs and claws, but at the last moment, I twisted to her left, and jerked up to sink my fangs into her throat. She dodged and I missed, but I still managed to bite into her at the juncture of her throat and shoulder. She yelped in agony, but I didn't let go, moving to clamp down on her leg. She attacked my other shoulder, but then an arrow from Legolas landed in her side and she went still. I released her and turned, only to have two wolves pounce me from behind.

It was my turn to cry out in agony as one bit into my ear, the other on my left hind leg. I could feel their hate, their malicious excitement. They were more than ready to tear me apart.

"No!"

Sam?

The brave little hobbit had burst out of the protective circle the others had formed for him and his kin, and was racing sword-first towards me and the wolves.

The little idiot! He didn't have a hope against two wolves, not like this! Fear for him made me struggle, wrenching my leg free so I could turn, snapping and snarling, to attack the young male who had bitten me. It hurt like someone had run fire over my leg, and I felt stickiness from my own dripping blood, but I wasn't going to let Sam get hurt. I sent one off, but then turned to see that the other was going for Sam.

I wasn't going to let them harm one hair on his little hobbit feet. With a snarl, I rushed the other wolf, slamming him to the ground, teeth in his shoulder. An arrow sliced over my head – whoops. I'd gotten in the way of Legolas' arrow.

Of course. The Fellowship were there to protect Sam as well.

Who was going to protect me from them? I'd be suspicious of me too – from where they were standing, it had to look as though I'd just helped a fellow wolf escape death by arrow.

The wolf bit me on the shoulder, the already wounded one. The next thing I knew, a blade sliced into his throat, and he was dead. Swaying a little, I stood up, shaking his jaws free with a wince. I knew I had to be a sight, with blood and wolf fur and dirt all over me. My hind leg was the definition of excruciating pain at that moment, and I found I could barely stand. Glancing up, I saw that everyone was staring at me, and Legolas had an arrow nocked to his bow as he watched me warily. Aragorn had been the one to throw the sword and save me, but one wrong move, and I knew that arrow would fly. The stone's orange glow had faded, and I felt exhausted suddenly, lightheaded from the loss of blood.

"Just shoot it, Elf, and finish this!" exclaimed the Dwarf, testily. "If you won't, then I will!" He gripped his axe, a hostile glare in his eyes as he looked at me.

I cowered, ears moving back. Against these seasoned warriors I had no chance at all.

"No – you can't kill her!" Sam turned to Gandalf and Aragorn, and before I knew it, he launched into an explanation of how I'd been following them all this way, how I'd left food for them and helped them, how he'd found me half-dead on the mountain. "I told her not to follow us anymore, but now – she's saved my life Mr Gandalf, and I can't see her killed, I just can't." He looked down, then up again pleadingly.

"Hold that arrow, Legolas," Gandalf said, his wise gaze moving thoughtfully over me. He approached slowly, holding out his hand for me to sniff, as though I was a dog. I obliged, sniffing carefully at his fingers before pulling away and giving him what I hoped was a non-threatening wolf grin. He took careful hold of my head, looking deep into my eyes for a long moment, before saying, "I sense no malice in this creature. She means us no harm, nor is she a servant of the Enemy."

Gimli muttered something under his breath, soft enough that even my wolf ears couldn't catch exactly what he was saying. Boromir looked skeptical as well, but Legolas lowered his bow slightly. Sam looked relieved and triumphant. "That's what I said, Mr Gandalf, sir."

"What's this?" Gandalf had found the stone around my throat. Responding the only way I could, I met his gaze and shrugged my shaggy wolf shoulders. Surprise tinged the wise orbs, and he studied the stone carefully, before releasing it. "Well, my Lady Wolf, you've followed us this far – I see no harm in your following us a little further, is that so be your wish. And it is your intent, is it not?"

I nodded. He nodded back.

"Very well. As the saying goes: 'Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer', and until we truly know that we can trust you…" He gestured, and Aragorn stepped forward with a length of rope that he had taken from his pack.

My eyes widened as Gandalf fashioned it into a loop, which he slipped around my neck.

I supposed I couldn't blame them. I was, to all appearances, a wolf, a creature generally assumed to be savage and evil. I watched forlornly as he tied me to a stump, but made no complaints. Then, with that settled, they set about preparing to go back to sleep for what was left of the night. Laying my head on my paws, I closed my eyes as well. There didn't seem anything I could do about my situation, at least for now.

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	4. The Walls of Moria

**Disclaimer:** If it isn't obvious by now...

**Chapter 3**

The sun woke me early the next morning, along with the sensation of someone gently touching my leg – the injured one, I mean. I'd been careful not to lie down on it, but still it was sore and throbbing, and pain was starting to come.

"Easy now…"

The warm voice of the Ranger was unexpectedly gentle, and I looked up in surprise, realizing that he was cleaning my wounds with soft cloth and water, tending to my injuries and washing the blood from my fur. Merry and Pippin were helping him, fetching water and handing him more cloth when he asked for it. They were very alike, those two, and I couldn't really tell one from the other yet, but I was grateful. I licked the Ranger's hand as it passed near my muzzle, the only way I had of thanking him that he would understand. He smiled at me.

"It would seem Sam was right in his instincts about you, wasn't he?" he murmured, and I shrugged, turning my gaze to the rest of the camp. Gandalf was seated nearby, smoking his pipe, while Boromir was just putting on his cloak and light armor in preparation for travel. Sam was with Frodo, handing him a plate of bacon and eggs that smelt heavenly. Gimli was muttering to himself as he cleaned wolf blood and fur from his axe, casting wary glances over at me from time to time.

Legolas appeared, holding water skins in his hands – apparently he'd just come back from filling them. He also had a bowl of water which he brought over to Aragorn, who took it and thanked him.

"I found some marigold and horsetail, as requested," said the Elf in the smooth, melodic voice I had heard others of his race use. He placed several plants on the ground beside the bowl, and Aragorn nodded.

"Many thanks, my friend," he said, picking up the herbs and crushing them between his fingers. Merry and Pippin watched with interest as he allowed the juice to dribble from his hand into my wounds. It stung, and I let out a startled whimper before trying to pull away.

"Hold, Lady," he said, and neither of us realized it then, but he had just christened me by calling me that, for from that moment that was the only name the Fellowship called me by. "Marigold and horsetail help prevent and cure infection, and we don't want to take chances that you might have to lose your leg, do we?"

I shuddered at the thought, and nodded. He was right – better to feel this sting now than have to suffer later. He then selected a new plant, a tall plant with bright yellow flowers, and again crushed them into a yellow paste, which he applied to my leg wound and to my shoulders and other injuries. Finally, he finished by wrapping bandages around my leg and shoulders, and stood, looking satisfied.

"Now, Lady, don't overexert yourself, and don't pull off those bandages – they must be tight, so that the goldenrod poultice does not slip out of doing its healing work. Goldenrod helps wounds to heal more quickly," he added, noting the quizzical look I sent his way. He moved aside as Sam approached, a plate of bacon, eggs, and bread with hard cheese in his hands.

"Is that for us?" exclaimed Merry enviously, and Sam gave him a look.

"Yours is over by the fire, Merry, and if you don't hurry, Pippin will have eaten it all along with his share. Here Lady – I didn't think you'd want the tomatoes," he said, setting the plate down in front of me. I licked my lips, eyeing the food greedily. For too long I had been craving Sam's cooking, and now it was actually here before me, presented to me… it was truly a dream come true. Forgoing manners in favor of filling my stomach, I gobbled down everything on the plate, licked it clean, and looked up for more.

The Fellowship were all staring at me with wide eyes, before Gandalf commented, "I see you have the appetite of a Hobbit, my Lady Wolf."

The hobbits all grinned, and suddenly there was laughter – not at me, merely everyone sharing in the joke. I burped, slightly embarrassed. Sam smiled kindly at me, coming to collect my plate. He refilled it with a second helping, and I wished wolves could smile so I could smile back.

And in case you were wondering – Sam's cooking was every bit as delicious as the smell had indicated. My stomach was in a very happy place, and remained so even when it came time to break camp.

Gandalf came to untie the rope from the stump, and I got slowly to my feet without prompting. He glanced at my leg, but when I tested it I found that I could limp without too much exertion. I didn't think the wizard walked exceptionally fast either, so more than likely I would be all right.

The thought of our destination apparently pleased Gimli, for the Dwarf now walked in front with Aragorn and Gandalf, instead of guarding the back of their party the way he had been doing prior to this.

"My cousin Balin will help me show you the meaning of Dwarven hospitality, Master Elf," he said gleefully, a boyishly happy expression on his face, and I realized that he was excited at the thought of seeing his kin again. How many years had it been since he had visited his cousin? I tilted my head to look at him, and almost missed my step as the rope tangled my feet.

"Watch your step, Lady," Gandalf chided me gently, and I picked myself up, feeling somewhat embarrassed. Tail and ears down, I slunk quietly back into step beside the wizard, forcing myself to concentrate on the road and not my companions.

On the bright side, at least now I didn't have to hide myself from them. Tanana had never said I needed to do that, but then again, I hadn't been able to figure out how to get them to bring me along. It wasn't like I could have approached them and said: "Hi, I'm a wolf, mind if I join your Fellowship?"

We didn't stop for lunch, but since the hobbits were hungry, strips of dried meat and hunks of bread were passed around, and water shared out from the water skins that Legolas had filled earlier. I drank sparingly, knowing that I could withstand thirst better than the others in my current form, and also, I didn't feel right taking their water when they might need it for later. Aragorn poured the precious liquid into his hand, and I lapped it up before too many of the silver drops could touch the ground. When he started to pour more, I nudged his hand away, shaking my head so he would understand. He looked thoughtful, then nodded, gently running his hand over my fur before standing.

It was nightfall when we finally reached the Mines, our destination. Gimli was the first to stop, an expression of awe on his face.

"The Walls…of Moria!" he exclaimed, and it was the first time I heard such genuine pride and joy in his voice. "Look, Master Elf, soon we will be feasting in the halls of my people!"

Legolas, who seemed rather reluctant to acknowledge anything about the beauty of the rock and stone before us, merely nodded. I turned my gaze up towards the cliff face, which stretched upwards, sheer and brooding, away into the mists. And try as I might, not even with all my heightened senses could I find an entrance of any sort.

Yet Gimli was so certain we were in the right place. Puzzled, I kept searching, wondering if perhaps there was a hidden entrance somewhere that I needed to find. A while later, it was Pippin who voiced my thoughts.

At least, I _thought_ it was Pippin. I still wasn't too good at telling him and his cousin apart yet.

"How are we to get in, then?" Pippin asked, looking around with his perpetual expression of curiosity.

"Dwarf doors are invisible when closed," answered Gimli, and taking his axe, he tapped it gently against the rock. This seemed to be a cue, for suddenly the whole Fellowship joined him in tapping and searching for the door.

"Yes, Gimli, their own masters cannot find them if their secrets are forgotten," Gandalf was saying as he tapped with his staff.

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Legolas commented, earning him a dirty look and muttered grumbling from the Dwarf.

"Ah!" Gandalf had found something, in an area between two twisted, gnarled trees. Stepping back, he handed my rope to Legolas, who was nearest. The Elf glanced carefully down at me, apparently uncertain how he felt about trusting me just yet. I looked back at him, then turned away. The wolf in me just wasn't comfortable looking directly into the eyes of an Elf, and the human in me wasn't too happy about it either.

Gandalf ran his hand over the wall. . Spidery lines of script appeared where his fingers had traveled, and I found myself staring in awe – to someone like me, who had never learned any letters beyond the normal Westron writing, these strange symbols were some of the most amazing things I'd ever seen. As I watched, the outline of a door became apparent, as the lines of script lit up through some magical power and glowed brightly for all to see.

"_Ithildin_," Gandalf said aloud, probably more for our benefit than his own. "It mirrors only starlight – and moonlight." Raising his staff, he brought the moon out from behind clouds with a nonchalant wave. My eyes grew even wider, if anything. I'd never seen a wizard in action before. He pointed at the arch, towards the script that ran along the top, and the Fellowship gathered closer to peer at the gate of the Dwarves.

"It reads: 'The Doors of Durin – Lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter.'"

Merry glanced at him – well, if the other one had been Pippin, then this was undoubtedly Merry. "What do you suppose that means?"

"Oh, it's quite simple. If you are a friend, you speak the password and the doors will open," the wizard answered. He set his staff near the top of the arch, where the pattern of a star glittered brightly, and called out words in a tongue I did not know, sending shivers down my spine and causing me to scuttle closer to Legolas, who glanced down in surprise, before tentatively lowering his hand and stroking my fur in what he seemed to think was a reassuring gesture.

But nothing happened. Gandalf raised an eyebrow, frowning. He tried again, with different words this time.

Still nothing. Raising an eyebrow as I decided that there was nothing to worry about after all, I took one cautious step away from Legolas, only to bump into Boromir and back away again at the look he sent me.

Gandalf's frustration was by now fairly obvious – to me at least, for I scented it all too easily, a sour scent that curdled my nostrils. He pushed lightly on the doors, annoyance on his face as Pippin, oblivious to his mood, asked, "What are you going to do, then?"

"Knock your head against these doors, Peregrin Took!" exploded the wizard. "And if that does not shatter them, and I am allowed a little peace from foolish questions, I will try to find the opening words."

Wisely, Pippin kept his mouth shut after that, and Gandalf turned back to his task as the rest of us settled down to watch and wait.

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We waited well into the night as Gandalf tried spell after spell. Legolas still held my leash, though by now his hold on the rope was looser than it had been, and I was enjoying the way he was stroking the tangles out of my fur. He had gentle eyes, the Elf, I'm not sure how I hadn't noticed them before, but they were like Sam's in that aspect.

Gimli and Boromir were resting on the rocks nearby, each with their own thoughts, though occasionally – and by that I mean every five minutes or so – the Dwarf would glance over at Gandalf to check on his progress. In between that, he also found time to glance over at me and Legolas, though he didn't look too happy that the Elf was giving me such warm treatment. I thought it fitting that he was with Boromir – they were both the only ones left in the Fellowship who didn't at least trust me a little by now. Legolas might not have extended complete trust, but he seemed to have figured out that I meant no harm to them.

Merry and Pippin were down by the water, skipping pebbles across its still surface, while Frodo was quietly watching Gandalf, a thoughtful expression on his pale hobbit face.

Turning my head so that Legolas could gain access to that special spot behind my ears, I found myself watching Sam, Aragorn, and Bill. Sam seemed close to tears, which instantly caught my attention, and I pricked my ears to hear what Aragorn was saying to him.

"The mines are no place for a pony, Sam," the Ranger was telling him, not unkindly. "Even one so brave as Bill."

Sam sniffed. "Bye-bye, Bill." The expression on his face nearly broke my heart.

Aragorn lightly whacked the pony's rump, sending him clip-clopping away at a light trot, freed of the packs he had been carrying for days. "Go on, Bill, go on. Don't worry, Sam," he told the hobbit. "He knows the way home."

Sam nodded, looking sad. I knew he would miss the pony, would worry about him. I thought of the wolves, and couldn't help but pray that Bill would make it back all right.

And then, just as I was considering going over to comfort Sam, I sensed it. The wolf sensed it too, making my fur prickle with dread. The orange stone around my throat began to glow, and I followed my instincts, turning towards the lake with an intent expression. Legolas stopped scratching my ears, leaning closer.

"What is it, Lady?" he asked, causing Aragorn and the others to look my way as well. I glanced up at him, but of course I couldn't tell him anything. I couldn't explain it; literally couldn't.

How do you explain that you can just _sense_ the darkness approaching? It might not be true darkness, not the true Shadow, but it was definitely a threat, definitely something that endangered our lives, our presence here. The wolf in me knew that something was out there and coming closer. The wolf knew it wasn't a friend. Something was in the air, and the danger-scent was as sharp and clear as the scent of the forest after a good rain.

"Oh, it's useless," Gandalf was saying, dropping his staff and pulling out his hat as he sat down behind me, but I was busy trying to locate the danger. Still the movement distracted me, and that was why I never saw the first sign.

_Movement in the water…_

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	5. The Beginning of Trust

**Disclaimer:** See previous chapters.

**Author's notes:**Wow! 4 reviews! Considering that I wasn't expecting any - thanks to those who reviewed! To dansa, MerrytheHobbit, Kaisaan and Memory bleeds - you each get a sack of leprechaun gold and a Legolas plushie! (grin)

I finished studying earlier than expected today, so I worked on chapter 4 and finished it. Exams still not over, but I had to do it - the bunny was really biting. Oh, but I still have no beta. Really, anyone interested?

Kaisaan - Thanks! LOL, lots of questions - okay, first of all: 1) Well...she has a real name. I just thought I wouldn't reveal it until later in the story. Yes, I was thinking I'd make her human again - I'm currently fighting with myself over whether to add romance and make this either a Legolas/OC or Aragorn/OC (but even here, the Aragorn/Arwen shipper in me is telling me to stick to canon at least). But yes, definitely she shall regain her human form - half-Elven, really. As to your final question, I'd say it's answered below. (wink)

And to Memory bleeds - thanks for the review! Here's the next chapter - enjoy!

**Update 4th June:** This chapter is dedicated to Talayna Tramae, who noticed the little but very important error in this chapter and kindly let me know about it. Thanks!

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**Chapter 4**

The stone around my neck started to warm, and I felt the orange glow gently spreading, over and around and through me, a warm feeling spreading through me like the wind rippling over the surface of a lake.

Speaking of which – I turned back to the lake, away from Frodo, who was just standing up. One ear swiveled back to listen, hearing him say: "It's a riddle."

The other, was pricked for danger from the water. By now, all of the Fellowship could see the ripples, ripples which should not exist when there was no wind.

_Danger!_ Orange light flowed from my stone, and I crouched low, baring my fangs as I growled fiercely at the ripples. Legolas cautiously tightened his grip on my rope, but I barely noticed. The wolf was awake now, and my senses were screaming, instincts on full alert. Behind me, voices, but they were irrelevant compared to what was to come.

"What's the Elvish word for friend?" Frodo.

"_Mellon_." And that was Gandalf, realizing as much as responding.

"The doors are open!" called Aragorn. His eyes, like mine, were fixed on the water. "Get the hobbits inside!"

There was a tug on the rope around my neck, and I nearly turned on Legolas, who was trying to get me to follow him. At the last moment, though, I yanked back control over the wolf instincts and gave him an injured look instead.

"You'll be safer inside, Lady," Legolas told me gently, but firmly. "Against any foe that may come from the water you cannot help, only hinder. Wolves are, as I recall, land-bound creatures that are not agile in the water at all."

I growled, but there was no true venom in it. The Elf was right, but it didn't mean I had to like that he was. Gandalf turned to me, staff in hand once more. "Come, Lady – help me bring the hobbits to safety."

Seeing that there wasn't much else I could do if they weren't going to let me fight, I bounded obediently over to the wizard, slowed only by the tug of the rope as Legolas followed at his own pace. The Elf handed my rope to Gandalf, and I headed over to the hobbits, especially Sam, feeling the courage-lending stone cool at my throat.

I didn't understand that stone, not yet. But now wasn't exactly the time to start pondering deeply about it.

Movement! The wolf, alert to sudden noises and motion, sensed what it thought was a snake on the ground nearby. But when I saw it, the human in me knew it was no snake.

It was a long, slimy, scaly, tentacle, and it was headed for Frodo!

Frodo, who had been near the back of the group of hobbits. Frodo, who could not sense or see the danger he was in. I had to do something!

"Uhrrrrr!" I snarled, leaping at it and biting down. There was an inhuman shriek of pain from the lake, and suddenly something slammed into me and threw me back. I hit the wall hard and slid slowly to the ground, my vision spinning. There was warmth at my throat again – and an orange glow was slowly covering me from head to tail.

"Frodo!" several voices cried, and then Sam's voice rose above the rest.

"Strider!" he shouted, turning in panic to Aragorn, who with Boromir was already drawing his sword. Legolas grabbed his bow, sliding an arrow into place with ease of familiarity. Gimli stood near the entrance, gripping his axe.

Hands were helping me to my paws. I sniffed – Gandalf. Carefully, he removed the rope from around my throat and ordered: "Help me get the hobbits to safety, Lady. Aragorn and the others will take care of the Watcher in the water."

He paused suddenly, and when I looked at him I could see myself reflected in his wise, but surprised gaze. Even I was startled at my own appearance.

In my wolf form, I had golden-amber eyes and shaggy dark brown fur that was marked with salt and pepper streaks, and my underbelly and legs were pure white – except for my pads, where the dirt and dust of the road had stained them brown. But now, my fur seemed to have turned to liquid fire, blazing with pure orange flame from the courage-stone.

The stone had changed my appearance. Had it been this way the last time, against the wolves? Or was this the first occurrence? I had no idea. There was no time to find out.

Legolas was firing arrows at the beast that had emerged from the depths of the lake. Aragorn had managed to recover Frodo, but now there was nowhere to go but deeper into the mines. He and Boromir herded Gimli and the hobbits in like frightened sheep, though the Dwarf clearly wanted to join in the fight. And Legolas – Legolas! Watch out!

With a sudden burst of speed, I exploded into a run, leaping to grab the Elf by his belt and yanking him away from the grasping tentacle just before it wrapped around him. Tugging and pulling him with all my might, I guided him into the mines with the others. I had caught a glimpse of the evil they had been fighting - a giant squid-like creature that radiated an aura of darkness, yet I sensed that it was neither truly good nor evil. I understood that, actually - this being was so ancient that it, like Nature in her many forms, was neither good nor bad in any way. It merely existed, reacting only when others disturbed it, waking it from its long sleep. The Watcher in the Water, Gandalf had called it. Taking one final look at it, I yanked Legolas backwards and fell with him into the caves just as several enraged tentacles slammed into the wall. The ancient gate of the Dwarves collapsed, and the light of the moon was the last thing I saw as the entrance was sealed.

And a howl of pure agony exploded from my throat as a large rock landed on my already injured leg, trapping me by the new rockfall. My vision blurred at the pain, but as far as I could tell without actually being able to see or examine the limb, it wasn't broken.

"Lady!"

I recognized Sam's worried voice, but could only respond with a groan. Legolas had scrambled to his feet by this time, and was working to lift the rock. It was too heavy for him to handle alone, though, and I let out an injured yelp – all he was succeeding in doing was shifting the rock in place on my leg. If I'd been able, tears would have been spilling from my eyes by now.

Aragorn was suddenly there, and to my surprise, Boromir joined him. Gandalf came as well.

"Here," stated the wizard calmly, and his staff started to glow, providing light.

"Lady, when we say so, move your leg away," Aragorn said, his voice slightly strained with his efforts to lift the obstacle. "One, two…"

"Oh – oh, no. NOOOOOOO!"

A pained, sorrow-filled wail from Gimli interrupted him, and they all turned to look at Gimli, who had collapsed on the ground, sitting on what appeared to be steps, hewn into the rock. My wolf eyes couldn't see much in the darkened place, and I couldn't focus enough to scent the air through the pain in my limb.

"What is it, Gimli?" asked Gandalf, turning to the Dwarf. As he turned, so did the light – and then we saw them.

All over the ground lay the battered, broken forms of fallen Dwarves. Corpses. All over, with broken armor and weapons, with thin arrows sticking out of their bodies. Legolas carefully left his position holding the rock, and plucked one out. An expression of disgust filled his face. "Goblins," he spat.

Boromir dropped the rock, and I groaned in pain again. Quickly Aragorn called Legolas back. "Let us finish helping Lady before we do anything else, Legolas."

The Elf hesitated, then nodded and returned to his previous position. I could barely feel my leg now – I could have lost my entire paw and not realized it due to the agony-fire in the appendage. But together, Elves, Men and wizard heaved, and I dragged myself forward as far as I could, hoping it would be enough, for by then I hadn't the strength to move any further. Small fingers clutched my fur to pull me further forward, and I scented the hobbits. Between the four of them, they managed to half-drag, half-carry me to the steps. Aragorn met them there, and settled me down. He glanced around at the corpses, and sighed.

"This is no place to tend a wound, but…" He ran a quick gaze over my leg. "The leg does not seem to be broken, but it has aggravated the previous injury. Lady, can you walk? If you can, I will try to stop the bleeding temporarily until we reach a better place to provide treatment. If not, I will carry you."

Carry me? The very thought made me straighten at once. I did not want to burden the Fellowship any more than I already was. Struggling to my paws, I tested my leg, and winced as fire shot up the limb. Blood dripped freely from the newly opened wound, leaking through the bandages that were already in place.

Well. I couldn't step down with my leg, but I had three others, after all. I looked up at Aragorn and wagged my tail, trying to tell him that I was fine. He gave me a stern look, telling me in return that he wasn't buying it.

"We must face the long dark of Moria, Lady, and it is a four-day journey to the other side," Gandalf's voice cut in. "In your present condition, I highly doubt that you will be able to walk all that way. I'm afraid you will have to bear with the indignity of being carried by Aragorn."

I sighed, and nodded reluctantly. Without further delay, Aragorn stopped the bleeding and hefted me into his arms, carrying me in a lying down position like a baby. I didn't like this at all, and whined. The wolf hated this sort of vulnerable position, and I had to fight the almost overpowering instinct to struggle free. Besides, I _knew_ I was too heavy for the Ranger, no matter what he said.

"Strider! I've got an idea!" Merry bounded over, holding a blanket in his hands. "We can use this – if we fold it like so, then we can put her in the middle and carry her between two persons. Then she wouldn't be," he shot me a cautious, apologetic look, "such a heavy burden."

Was he saying that I was _fat_? Slightly offended – a normal reaction for females of any race or species throughout Middle-Earth, I'd say - I narrowed my eyes at the hobbit, but otherwise acknowledged that he had an idea there. The blanket _could_ be used as a stretcher of sorts. Aragorn nodded his thanks to Merry, bending to respectfully take two spears from the fallen Dwarven warriors in order to create a carrier for me, and soon I was being carried in between Legolas and the Ranger. I sensed that everyone was more comfortable this time around.

Gandalf, with his staff to light the way, led our party, with Frodo and the other hobbits close behind him. Aragorn, Legolas and I came next, with a grief-stricken Gimli and Boromir bringing up the rear. I watched the Dwarf carefully. He would not want my pity, which made it a good thing that I did not feel pity for him. I just shared in his grief for the many fallen Dwarves whose bodies we had seen near the entrance, and even now, as we passed through a long tunnel into the deep darkness of Moria.

It was a long journey, and everyone was relieved when Gandalf finally called a halt. Aragorn wasted no time – immediately after a quick dinner, he set to work on my leg, using some of the drinking water we had to clean dirt and debris from my leg. After watching for a while, Legolas joined him. Looking in his eyes, I was surprised, for there was guilt there in the brown orbs.

Comforting the Elf in the only way I could – being unable to speak and all – I nudged his hand gently and licked it. I didn't understand what was making him feel so guilty – could he possibly be blaming himself for my injury?

Legolas smiled, murmuring something in Elvish. Aragorn did not look up from his work, but he nodded his head, apparently agreeing with what the Elf had said. I glanced from one to the other, confused.

"He said that you saved him when he was in danger, Lady, and helped save Frodo's and those of the other hobbits. And he is grateful," Aragorn informed me softly, wrapping a new bandage around my leg. "So are we all."

"Indeed." Gandalf had made his way over. "Something about you tells me that you are no ordinary wolf, Lady – if in fact you are a wolf at all." His steady gaze met mine, and I found I had to look down. Beyond all, I wished I could explain myself to him, to them all. But how?

"She's no wolf," Sam said, his voice unexpectedly echoing through the darkness, a stalwart sound in the long deep of the tunnels. He waited for everyone to turn to him before saying shyly: "I believe she's a real lady inside, is all." A faint blush tinged his cheeks, and I wagged my tail, opening my mouth and showing my fangs in the wolf version of a smile.

It was strange, but I think Sam's statement and the events of that night clinched it for the Fellowship in that they now decided that they could trust me. I might not have earned the same bond that they had all formed with each other while traveling and facing danger as a Fellowship, but I sensed no more hostility from them now – not even from Gimli or Boromir. Aragorn settled me down near the hobbits that night, and if that wasn't a sign of trust that he would allow me so near to those he had sworn to protect from all danger and evil, then I didn't know what else was. I gave him a grateful lick and snuggled down near Sam and Frodo. They wouldn't know it, but this would be the first time sleeping with _friends_, in my entire life.

And it sure felt good.

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Later that night though, the soft sound of helpless sniffles woke me up. My eyes had not yet adjusted to the darkness, but I somehow made out Gimli's short frame near the edge of the group. I stretched, then struggled to my paws. The Dwarf seemed to be choking into his beard, but the scent of salt and the sound of something dripping from his beard told me that he was crying – and something told me that he hoped to do it without any of his companions waking to see him. Such was Dwarven pride – but I knew he was grieving for his fallen kin. Were there any Dwarves left alive in Moria now? Or was Gimli the only living representative of his race left in the halls of his ancestors?

I couldn't bear it. My heart ached for him, sharing in his grief, and I struggled towards him. My leg hurt with every step, and finally I was reduced to limping heavily on three legs – but I made it. He looked up as I reached him, quite a sight to behold – his face was red and blotchy from crying, and his beard was soaked through with his tears. But I saw through it, seeing only his pain and grief. Collapsing beside him, I rested my head in his lap and whined softly, trying to tell him that I was here for him, that I understood what he was going through. I'd lost people I loved and cared about before, I knew that it hurt. And long moments later, one of the Dwarf's hands descended heavily onto my head, and started stroking through my fur. Neither of us spoke, and yet a lot was said between us anyway. But more than that – that was the moment that something was sealed between us, something neither of us realized…but later on we would see it for what it was: Friendship.

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Constructive criticism and reviews welcome! Flames will be used to roast s'mores.

**Next chapter sneak peek - don't read below if you don't want spoilers!**

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Lady Wolf: A new stone? What could it be? What trait does it represent? I was being tested? By who? What for? And what awaits us in the long dark of Moria? Whoa!

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Please review!

RK9.


	6. The Second Stone, and Understanding

**Disclaimer:** You should at least know where to look. :)

**Author's notes:** I know, I promised that we'd go deeper into Moria, but... well, none of you have a bunny as persistent as this one was. (nods) I'm going to have scars from all the biting it did.

Oh, and the song is not mine. It's a translation of the song "Kachou Fuugetsu", which is Chichiri's image song from Fushigi Yuugi. It fit, I love it, and I wanted it in. For lyrics and info on the song, check this page: http: / www . angelwings . ashst . com / suzaku / firewings / songs / lyrics / song15 . htm

Thanks to all who reviewed the previous chapter! This one is dedicated to gelf, a dear friend of mine, and to the Charmed Feral sisters whom I miss dearly.

Oh, the quotes? Yes. Thought I'd add them. The first is general, a hint for what the next stone will be. The two at the end describe what I'm trying to say about the trait, and were inspiration for the definition I gave for it. Enjoy!

**Edited to add: **Argh. Sorry. I used arrow signs for the speech of the Voice, but they don't show... Fixed that.

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"Those who bring sunshine into the lives of others, cannot keep it from themselves." – James M. Barrie

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**Chapter 5**

_Singing. Soft notes that filled the air, like the sound of an Elven harp being tenderly and beautifully played. _

_Blinking, I found that my surroundings looked surprisingly familiar. A bird was singing, but this time instead of birdsong and a beautiful tune, I could hear actual words. I didn't know the language, yet somehow I understood what was being sung._

"_In a world where flowers bloom as if watching life_

_The instant a bird takes flight, I feel freedom_

_If you lend your ear to the wind, time will materialize_

_In the heart that watches the moon, silence will alight…"_

_Tilting my head towards what appeared to be a little brown sparrow, I decided that I was dreaming. Again. I'd been here before. This was where that strange Voice had given me the Stone of Courage. _

_**- It's good to see you again, daughter of Huan. I'm flattered that you would remember me. -** _

_I recognized the same female Voice that I'd heard the last time I was here. I wished I could respond, if only to ask why I was here a second time. _

_Laughter. **- You are here because you have passed your second test, and I have another gift to give to you. Once again, you will know what to do with it when the time comes. -**  
_

_This time, I was slightly more prepared for the little shining butterfly lights that settled on the chain around my neck. Hesitantly, I reached up a paw amongst the glitter of their wings. I felt it then: a second stone. _

_Like I had the last time, I turned and padded over to the pool of water, surprisingly unhindered by any injuries whatsoever. My leg, my shoulders – I was unblemished and fit as a fiddle. _

_My reflection stared back at me with my own apprehensive eyes. Yes, I had been correct. Two stones there were now, hanging from the chain at even intervals. One orange, which I had become familiar with by now, and the new one a light lavender. When I touched it, an image appeared in my mind, but instead of the symbol of the sun that I had grown used to, I saw the symbol of a flower bud that was only just starting to open. _

_**- That is the flower that gives to others when they are in need. Kindness, little one, and I was very pleased to see it so alive in you earlier. As I said, you passed the test, and so you have earned this token. -** A slight pause, and then, reading the question in my mind, **- The test was necessary, and no, you did not need to know of it. These stones are powerful. Once they were powerful weapons in an ancient war against the Darkness, but so long have they lain dormant in my care that they have been forgotten. I have deemed it time that they be used again. A new war will soon be fought, Huan's daughter, and these little tokens will be needed. - **She sighed, a soft breath of wind in the dreamscape. - **There, I have said too much. I have been told that I need to think before I speak. No, I must say no more. Nine there are, these tokens, and I know that you will earn them all. Now, you must return. They are expecting you. -  
**_

_My mouth open, I realized that I had been staring at her. She had read each question in my mind before they were even fully formed, and answered accordingly. She had told me little compared to how much I wanted to know, and she thought she'd told me too much? _

_Above me, a bright hole was opening. Closing my eyes, I allowed myself to be taken up into it. Perhaps it was a good thing. I had much to think about, and it might be better to do such musing where my mind could not be read like an open book. Especially if this Voice was not going to answer any more of my curious questions. _

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I opened my eyes to Moria's eternal darkness, and waited patiently for my eyes to adjust as much as they could. The chain around my neck hung a little heavier now, with the weight of an extra stone.

First courage, now kindness. And that…Voice, had said I'd passed a test of some sort. What? Because I'd helped the Fellowship in battling the Watcher? No, I hadn't done much.

Touching the Stone of Kindness didn't bring the same reaction as touching the Stone of Courage did. When I touched the orange Stone, I'd feel stronger, somehow, ready to face anything. Warmth would spread through me, sometimes burning, sometimes just the right kind of warmth to strengthen me and make me feel as if I could take on the world – especially if it meant saving my friends. But no, there was no warmth when touching the lavender stone, at least not the same as the warmth of Courage.

Somehow, the reaction of the Stone of Kindness was more subtle. A gentle touch brought feelings of peace and comfort, and joy as well. The wolf did not understand it at all, and was actually afraid of the Stone.

Kindness. The flower that gave when others were in need. A bud about to bloom. Courage. A fierce, bright sun. The fire that must burn in times of need. Ancient weapons…

My head hurt.

Giving up for now, I looked up and around me at the sleeping Fellowship. Only Gandalf was awake, seated nearby and apparently keeping watch. I'd fallen asleep on Gimli, but now the Dwarf had moved back to his own sleeping roll near Boromir and the hobbits. I glanced at him, understanding. I guessed that come morning, both of us would pretend that nothing had happened in the night, and Gimli would once again be his usual self. Well, as normal as a grieving Dwarf could get, anyway.

Sensing movement in the darkness, I turned at once, but couldn't see much. My sense of smell told me that someone was out there, though, and I got slowly to my paws. My left hind leg was lifted off the ground – it figured. Back in the real world, away from the reality-warped dreamscape, my injuries were all back in full force. I limped forward a step – and was stopped by the end of a staff.

"Easy, Lady. I've known for a while now that someone follows us, but for now, he is no threat." Gandalf's voice came softly through the shadows. "He is drawn by the Ring, and at the same time he dares not come to close because he knows I am watching for him to try."

The Ring? I sat down heavily and looked at Gandalf with a question in my eyes. He frowned. "What is it, Lady?"

And the heck of it was, I had no clue how I was going to ask him. So far, 'yes' and 'no' questions had been easy to answer, but now I couldn't voice the questions that I had inside. The answers lay just beyond my reach, though it would have been easy enough if I wanted to speak. I nudged the wizard's hand, feeling frustration bubbling up inside of me. This wasn't even a language barrier. I was fluent in Common, understood _very_ little Sindarin, and the language of my mother's people. Back when I'd been myself, I'd never had a problem expressing myself. And here Gandalf was speaking Common just fine. My problem wasn't that I couldn't understand him. It was that I couldn't speak to him, couldn't articulate, couldn't verbalize… It was that _he_ couldn't understand _me_.

Gandalf must have realized how upset I was getting, because his gaze gentled and he placed a hand on my head in a soft pat. "Lady, calm down. I know it's frustrating – I have questions for you as well. Now. Let us try some 'yes' and 'no' questions, all right?"

I leaned into his hand, and nodded, taking several deep breaths of the musty air.

"The last thing I mentioned was how the one who has been shadowing our Company dares not come forward because he knows I am watching. Were you curious about that?"

I shook my head. An idea came, and in a very human gesture, I made a rolling motion with my paw, as though saying: _Go back._

"Then, before that I was saying that I know who it is that follows us?"

I reversed the direction of my paw. _Not that far back._ Staring at Gandalf's hand, more inspiration struck me. Reaching forward with my nose, I nudged his left ring finger, gazing pleadingly up at him as I did so. _'Please understand,' _I prayed, _'Please understand…'_

The light of comprehension dawned in the ancient eyes. "Ring… You want to know about the Ring? You do not know then? It is the very reason that we are on this journey. Do you mean that you've been following us all this way but with no idea why we are doing this or where we are headed? Lady, what a time to ask this – for now you have no choice but to follow us into the long dark of Moria, and cannot turn back should you wish to change your mind about following us to where we are going."

I whined softly. No, I didn't know why or where or how. But I wanted to know. I'd been curious long enough.

And so Gandalf began to speak. And I listened. And the story began to complete itself inside my head.

"It began with the forging of the great rings…"

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I hadn't known. Now I knew. The One Ring, the greatest of the Rings of Power, had been found in the keeping of a simple hobbit. It had been passed to his nephew, and now young Frodo Baggins the fate and future of Middle-Earth on his shoulders. I was surprised that the wolf in me hadn't sensed the evil from the Ring, but then again…perhaps it wasn't interested in animals, and so did not attempt to seduce me with promises of power?

Gandalf had managed to condense a full explanation about the Ring and the decisions made at the Council of Elrond, plus a little of the challenges Frodo and the others had been through since leaving their home in a place he called the Shire, all into one conversation. I supposed it helped that I could not interrupt with more questions as he spoke. And now I understood – or thought I did – why Tanana had told me that I must follow the Fellowship. For it was entirely possible that the destruction of Sauron and the One Ring could be the only way for me to ever regain my human form. Wasn't it? It was through some of Sauron's dark power that I had been cursed….so surely destroying the source was what would break the spell at long last?

This made it very important that I ensured that Frodo made it to Mordor safely, and succeeded in his quest.

Why hadn't she told me?

_Because she knew you might not have gone if you'd known. This challenges all your moral values, doesn't it? Your beliefs, your principles. It seems as though you're only going with the Fellowship because it will benefit you in the end. But you want it, don't you? You long to be yourself again, in the form you were born into. You've grown used to this body, but it is not yours, not really. _

The thoughts came suddenly into my head, and I frowned. It was true. I longed to be human – half-Elven – again. I longed to walk on two legs instead of four, to have hand and feet and a human face… To have people not fear me or hate me because of what I appeared to be. To…to find love, even, and happiness. All these things had been taken from me, and deep within was a terrible fear that I would die alone, a wolf, never able to have any of what were currently pipe dreams. Dreams that could never come true.

"Lady?"

Sam's tentative whisper brought me out of my musings, and I turned to the little hobbit with an uncertain smile. Uncertain because now, I was questioning my own motives. I was still determined to follow the Fellowship. But why? Was it because I cared about them, truly cared? Or was it because I now saw them as a means to the end of this cursed form? I wasn't sure. I was confused, and the peace I'd felt after comforting Gimli had long dissipated, feeling like it had happened an eon ago.

"Here, Lady. I thought you might like something to eat. Oh, and Master Gimli said to tell you thanks. He didn't say for what. Oh, and Gandalf says we must eat fast, because we're moving on." He reached out to ruffle the fur on my head, and slowly my smile grew warmer, more genuine. And at my throat, I felt the subtle warmth of the Stone of Kindness in reaction to the hobbits unselfish concern.

Yes, I was still confused. But thanks to Sam and his kindness, I now felt much better.

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"No kind action ever stops with itself. One kind action leads to another. Good example is followed. A single act of kindness throws out roots in all directions, and the roots spring up and make new trees. The greatest work that kindness does to others is that it makes them kind themselves." – Amelia Earhart

"The flower of kindness will grow. Maybe not now, but it will some day. And in kind that kindness will flow, for kindness grows in this way." - Robert Alan

Please review.

RK9.


	7. Deeper into Darkness

**Disclaimer:** Well. I own Lady.

**Author's notes: **Well, onwards into the mines. I'm trying to make Lady less of a Mary-Sue - hope I'm succeeding. Many thanks to all who reviewed - especially charmunclefleeblix-san, FairOphelia, Samantha and SwiftWolf...I can't respond because you all gave anonymous reviews, but thanks!

Kaisaan - You know something? I haven't decided who the Voice is yet. I'm discovering things as I go along, same as you! LOL, seriously, I do have a basic idea who she is, but let's just say that I might change my mind - though we can rule out Galadriel, since she's still here in Arda and has yet to meet Lady. Haha, keep reading.

Memory bleeds - Thanks. Some of that was based on real-life experience, though I found it difficult to put it into words, surprisingly. I'm glad it turned out okay - it must have, if you thought it good and real! I hope?

Well, here's chapter 6!

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**Chapter 6**

Another day and a half of traveling, and we finally reached a curved doorway, which Gandalf entered. Light from his staff revealed a dark, curving stairway that was cut into the rock. It was steep, and Aragorn and Boromir, who had been carrying me between them, paused for a moment to eye it rather apprehensively. I understood – it would be difficult to carry me up those, due to the steepness of the stairs. Solving their problem for them, I silently slid off the makeshift stretcher and started to limp determinedly towards the stairway. My leg, to my chagrin, still wasn't fully healed, but I gritted my teeth and struggled on.

"Lady," Aragorn said, stopping me gently but firmly, rolling his eyes at me a little. He knew me a little better by now, and gave me a stern look. "You're not going up those stairs without help, so wait for me, all right? Legolas!"

The Elf nodded – with his keen senses to scout for danger and his Elven grace for speedy ascension, he was the best choice for going up first, and I knew Aragorn also planned for him to go ahead and help the hobbits. I debated whether or not to attempt climbing up by myself, but then decided that I had better not. Aragorn was right that I needed help, for my leg really had nearly been crushed by the rock from two days ago. The wounds on my shoulders were scabbing over by now, and underneath the fur I would soon have some scars to boast about, but my leg was in constant pain now – Aragorn suspected it had been sprained a little, even though it hadn't been broken, and coupled with the previous injury, it made for lots of agony. So I waited for the Ranger, accepting his help in ascending the Dwarf-made stairway.

At the top, I was settled into the stretcher again, and we continued on. Finally, Gandalf, who was leading once more, led us through another ancient doorway, and I saw the first signs of why they called the place a mine.

We were on a Dwarf-made walkway on the left side, and on our right a deep, seemingly endless pit stretched far down into the bowels of the earth, and there was a sheer rock wall on the far side of this cavernous "room", if we could call it that. From this wall many ladders and iron chains hung, but most looked like they hadn't been used for a very long time now. I gulped, and lay still on the stretcher, suddenly afraid. In my head, I was imagining Aragorn or Boromir tripping, tilting the stretcher just a little too far… and then myself scrabbling weakly for a pawhold before tumbling down, down, down…

"Stay very still, Lady," Boromir cautioned me, at the same time as Aragorn took a firmer grip on the spears that were the handholds for the carrier. He needn't have told me, for I was digging my claws into the blanket by now, even though that didn't give me all that better a grip.

In front, Gandalf held his staff up higher, so that we could see the dark silvery streaks in the rocks around us. "The wealth of Moria," he said conversationally – I'd swear it was an attempt to bring our thoughts away from the abyss beside us - "was not in gold, or jewels, but mithril."

Merry leaned forward curiously, only to be stopped by a warning hand from a nervous Pippin, who was eyeing the vast drop beside us. Frodo was also staring down, his bright eyes excited and awed by the beauty that was still visible in these disused mines.

"Bilbo had a gift of mithril rings that Thorin gave him," Gandalf continued, as he kept moving forward steadily, seemingly unaffected by the sight of the deep drop.

Gimli looked up at that. "Oh, that was a kingly gift!" exclaimed the Dwarf, and Gandalf nodded.

"Yes! I never told him, but its worth was greater than the value of the Shire."

Well. I didn't know much about the Shire, but it sounded expensive indeed. Frodo looked faintly surprised, and our Company fell into a companiable silence as we continued on our way. I'll tell you though, beautiful as it was, I wasn't too sorry when we left that area behind.

Passing several rows of tombs, all silent now, we traveled through several archways until the wizard came to a sudden stop in front of three doorways. Craning my neck, I caught sight of an uncertain expression on Gandalf's face. He glanced from one door to another, before saying slowly, "I have no memory of this place."

"Then let us stop to rest while you try and recall which way you should go," Boromir said. He sounded tired, and I winced, feeling guilty. Of course the man was tired, he was carrying a sixty-five pound wolf around on a stretcher after all…

"Yes, Boromir, I believe that to be a wise idea." Gandalf gave his approval, seating himself on a rocky outcropping, and so the rest of us made ourselves comfortable below it.

Time passed. Aragorn busied himself with my leg again, checking that the bandages weren't too tight, and that the wound hadn't started bleeding again or become infected.

Merry and Pippin settled down with Sam. They looked bored, but so far they weren't causing any mischief so no one could complain.

"Are we lost?" asked Pippin, mournfully, breaking the silence at last.

"No," said Merry, rolling his eyes slightly.

"I think we are."

"Shh!" Sam chided them both in a loud whisper. "Gandalf's thinking."

"Merry?"

"What?"

"I'm hungry."

If I'd had a mouth, I'd have grinned. Hobbits weren't all that different from wolves that way – they were always hungry.

"Stop squirming, Lady. You know, you're really a very trying patient," Aragorn told me, but there was no real anger behind his words and so I nudged his hand playfully with my nose. Smirking, I was about to move away from his gentle examination when I happened to glance behind him. The sight I saw gave me a real shock, sending chills down my spine and it felt like my heart stopped for a moment as my fur fluffed out with the sudden fright.

Eyes. A pair of eyes, staring through the darkness, peering like a ghost or goblin-monster through a slit in the rocks.

Frodo, apparently, saw him too, and he turned and sprinted up to where Gandalf was sitting. With my wolf ears, I could hear exactly what he said.

"There's something down there, Gandalf!" The little hobbit was worried, maybe even scared. As for me, I turned away from the eyes, focusing instead on where Aragorn's hands were now softly massaging my leg through the bandage.

I wasn't planning to eavesdrop this time, but then again, it wasn't like I could close my ears.

"It's Gollum." Gandalf's voice was calm, unsurprised. And then I remembered that he'd said he knew we were being followed.

"Gollum?" Frodo's voice echoed the question in my own mind.

"He's been following us for three days." Gandalf confirmed.

No way! I'd have sensed him, wouldn't I? I snuffled haughtily through my nose, feeling vaguely insulted – until I recalled that Legolas' Elf senses were almost as keen as the wolf's, and he apparently hadn't noticed either. That mollified me, though not by much.

"He escaped the dungeons of Barad-Dur?"

"Escaped? Or was set loose?" There was a slight pause. "And now the Ring has drawn him here. He will never be rid of his need for it. He hates and loves the Ring, as he hates and loves himself. Yes, Smeagol's life is a sad story – Smeagol he was once called, before the Ring found him. Before it drove him mad."

Frodo was silent for a few moments, and then suddenly, with more venom than I'd ever heard from the little hobbit before, he burst out: "It's a pity that Bilbo didn't kill him when he had the chance!"

I don't know what reaction I'd been expecting, but that definitely wasn't it. My ear swiveled towards the rock outcropping in alarm, and then Aragorn's fingers closed down on my ear and pulled gently in reprimand. Gray eyes that were half-amused and half-reproving gazed down on me as he reprimanded, "Lady. You were listening in on their conversation? Stop it, now. It's not polite. Bad girl."

My tail slid right between my legs at those words, even though the half-Elf in me knew he was only teasing. But the wolf was as miserable as a dog who had just been disciplined by its master. Bad girl? I was a bad girl? No, I wasn't a bad girl, I was a good girl!

Aragorn's gaze gentled, and I sensed more amusement. His fingers descended to scratch behind my ear, and I felt a little better.

I didn't eavesdrop any further, though.

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It was only a few minutes later that Gandalf suddenly looked up. "Oh! It's that way!" He got to his feet, staff in hand. Merry leapt to his feet happily – and by now I was glad to say I knew with certainty that it was indeed Merry, for I had learned his unique scent at long last.

"He's remembered!" the hobbit said eagerly.

Gandalf led the way to the center doorway as we all started after him – with me on the stretcher again, this time borne by Aragorn and Legolas.

"No, but the air does not smell so foul, down here. As I believe Lady will attest to, Master Meriadoc – when in doubt, always follow your nose!" He breathed deeply, resting a hand on Merry's shoulder. And I was impressed, for although the wizard didn't have wolf senses – at least, I didn't _think_ he did – he was right. We emerged into the mother of all caverns, a gigantic sort of mountain hall, and I felt small and lost and insignificant compared to its humongous size. The wizard lifted his staff. "Let me risk a little more light… Yes. Behold, the great realm and Dwarf city of Dwarrowdelf!"

I think we were all humbled by the utter grandiosity of what the light revealed. Magnificent stone pillars and arches lined the hall, as far as the eye could see. I was no expert, but they seemed to have been carved from the natural rock of the mountain itself, and very beautifully too, with lots of detail…and love, for surely whoever had created such beauty had loved his work and the rock and stone that he worked with.

But I think what I loved most of all about that mountain hall, was that it gave a small measure of joy back to Gimli, however temporarily. The expression on the Dwarf's face as he gazed upon the hall of his fathers was just indescribable.

"Now there's an eye opener and no mistake," Sam said, which was high praise from the practical little hobbit.

I was about to agree with him, when Gimli suddenly broke into a leaping, bounding run. The joyous expression that had been on his face had disappeared, replaced by the same deep pain and sorrow that I'd seen in him for the past few days. Running into a nearby chamber, heedless of Gandalf calling his name, we all followed to find him on his knees in front of a large stone crypt. He was moaning, and this time even Dwarven pride couldn't hold back the tears that poured down his cheeks.

The Stone of Kindness glowed around my neck. For some reason, its warmth was no longer a subtle presence, but powerful and insistent. Responding instinctively, I slipped off the stretcher, sliding past Aragorn's attempt to stop me, and limping heavily on three legs over to Gimli. Gently nudging him, I abandoned my own pride and let him grab hold of my fur and hug me tightly. Boromir stepped forward, placing a hand on Gimli's shoulder as well, surprisingly compassionate.

"'Here lies Balin, son of Fundin'," Gandalf read solemnly, translating the runes on the tomb. "'Lord of Moria'. He is dead, then. It is as I feared."

Gimli wailed, long and loud in my ears, but I forced myself not to move. For a long moment, the Dwarf's grief was the only sound in that little stone room, as everyone fell silent. I didn't know what to do. I wanted to help him, I truly did. But I didn't know how I could bring him comfort.

I wasn't prepared for the Stone's reaction. As I licked the tears from Gimli's face, the Stone of Kindness flared around my neck. Gentle lavender light flowed from me towards the Dwarf, covering him, surrounding him. I stopped and stared, stunned. What was happening? What was I doing? What was _it_ doing?

He stopped crying, sobs turning into hiccups. Sorrow still tainted his expression, but now… the pain seemed to have been lessened somehow, and slowly I felt... That was strange. It felt as though I'd taken some of his pain into my own heart, like sharing his grief with him. Was that what the Stone had done?

Gandalf was frowning at me now, a sort of curious frown. He moved towards me, but stopped as his foot bumped into the skeleton of a Dwarf who leaned against the tomb, clutching in his bony hands an ancient book that looked both filthy and fragile. Frowning again - a different frown now - and suitably distracted, he passed his hat and staff to Pippin, and carefully picked up the large volume. Loose papers immediately fluttered down in a sudden rush of parchment, the ancient glue that was supposed to hold the pages to the spine now no longer adhesive enough to do so.

Gimli was murmuring something in his own tongue, and I caught his cousin's name somewhere in what he was saying. Guessing that it was a prayer of sorts, I respectfully stepped aside to give him some privacy. Anyway, it seemed that Gandalf held the attention of the rest of the Fellowship as he blew dust from the old book, and opened it to the last page. Using a finger to underline the words, he read: "'They have taken the bridge, and the second hall. We have barred the gates, but cannot hold them for long. The ground shakes. Drums, drums in the deep.'" He paused, turning the page. "'We cannot get out. A Shadow moves in the dark. _We cannot get out._'"

There was a mighty crash. All of us, who had been in a sort of trance while Gandalf was reading, now jumped and jerked, violently startled. And nearby, holding Gandalf's hat and staff and wincing guiltily, Pippin stood next to a now-headless skeleton of a Dwarven warrior. And then, as the hobbit opened his mouth to speak, the rest of the long-dead Dwarf proceeded to topple backwards, at first in seeming slow-motion, and then – WHAM, CLANG, KA-BANG! – it proceeded to follow its head down into the seemingly bottomless well, the sounds of its fall seeming to echo forever. However, stop it finally did, and then all eyes were on poor Pippin once again.

The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a sword. Gandalf was glaring at Pippin. My wolf senses went on overdrive at the stress scents that filled the air, but more than that, an all-too familiar sense was kicking in.

Danger. Danger was coming.

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Comments and constructive criticism welcome.

Oh. I don't know if anyone here's interested to see a picture of Lady, but here's one that's pretty close - except that her legs and underbelly are supposed to be white.

http : / / i576 . photobucket . com / albums / ss207 / espeon9466 / Lady . jpg

RK9.


	8. Failure to Understand

**Disclaimer: **Not ours, no, precious, not yet. We wants it, doesn't we? Yes, we does... but we cannot have it...

**Author's notes: **I have had an offer for beta from FairOphelia, and I accepted, but she has not given her email to me yet so I went ahead and posted this because I only have one and a half days of holiday left, and I need to use tomorrow to study for my upcoming economics exam - and all the others to come (shudder). So this is till unbetaed, and will probably be my last quick update until my exams end, probably June 20th. Sorry, everyone!

**Additional author's notes:** Oh yes. Below, when you see the part about "White light!" - that was inspired by a YouTube video of the DVD extras which I watched. You might want to watch it after you read, then there won't be spoilers, and you'll understand when you watch the vid. Remove spaces and add an equals sign where it says so in brackets. http : / www . youtube . com / watch ? v(equals sign)O1VZG7zYBbo

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**Chapter 7**

By now, I was more than used to the orange glow that spread over me from the Stone of Courage; in fact I was expecting it.

"Fool of a Took!" exploded Gandalf, snatching his hat and staff back from Pippin none too gently. "Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity!" He turned away abruptly, a sign of how furious he really was. Pippin winced, looking awkwardly at the wizard, yet at the same time seeming unwilling to make eye contact. I felt sorry for the little guy, but there wasn't much I could do. He _had_ been at fault, I supposed.

And then the drumbeats sounded. Gandalf turned again to stare at the well with apprehension, Pippin following the wizard's gaze. I glanced around. The wolf was afraid. It knew something was coming. But bolstered by the strength of the Stone of Courage, I was able to fight against the creeping terror that I could feel inside.

Limping towards the doorway, I pricked my ears and scented the air. I couldn't smell much beyond the dust and stone, but I heard the drumbeats increasing in rhythm and volume, and the roars and screams of the Enemy's servants approaching - Orcs, and maybe some goblins too.

There isn't really that much of a difference. Orcs and goblins are said to be one and the same. It's only that the larger kind are what we usually refer to as Orcs. The smaller ones are known as goblins. That's what I'd read in books before this, anyway, and so believed until now. Unfortunately, it wasn't like I could confirm this with Gandalf or anything – but if I ever made it back to my half-Elven form, it would be one of the first things I asked him.

An arrow thudded into the door just above my head, and I quickly withdrew into the chamber with a yelp. There, my inattention had cost us all dearly. They were here!

"Lady," Aragorn drew me aside as Boromir, Legolas and the others moved to bar the doorway with weapons and whatever else they could find. His gray eyes stared intently into mine. "Lady, you had better stay out the way. You can't even walk, you are hardly in any condition to fight."

Not fight? He had to be joking! I gave him a stubborn look and growled. _There's no choice!_ I wanted to shout, but couldn't of course. But he had to understand. If I hid away like a coward, I would only be hindering the others, since they would have to focus both on their own battles and on protecting me. It would distract them, might cost them their lives, their safety. I couldn't let them do that. Three legs, or none, I was going to fight.

Aragorn gave me a pleading look. "Lady."

The others were by now in defensive stances, ready for anything. Gimli had leapt up to stand on Balin's tomb, a fierce glow in his eyes. "Let them come!" he was crying. "There is one Dwarf yet in Moria who still draws breath!"

That was the kind of courage I wanted to show. Even the hobbits had their own little daggers drawn. Why couldn't Aragorn understand?

The Kindness Stone burned into my throat unexpectedly – but this was the first time that it actually hurt. I gagged, choking, and tumbled backwards. Aragorn started after me in concern, but then there was a mighty crash as someone outside began hacking at the door. The wood was old, it would not hold for long. And still the Stone burned.

What was wrong now?

If I'd had a voice, I'd be screaming like a skewered pig right now. Crawling behind the tomb as Aragorn had wanted me to do in the first place, I blacked out just as hell burst in through the doors.

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"_What's the matter, Elf-girl? You're not afraid, are you?" _

_Kain. Even in memory, the sight of him sent shivers down my spine. The town bully and son of one of the richer families in Tamra, there were few who dared cross him. _

"_Go on. Take the dare then. Climb to the top of the wall and jump down again. Go on!" _

_Trembling, I stared up at the wall. It stood about seven feet from the ground, the height of a grown man. Children of the village, especially the boys, always dared each other to jump off it, but of course no one was stupid enough to try it. Even if you didn't break or sprain your leg upon impact, the ground beneath was a slope, and you would roll down towards a tangle of thorn bushes unless you made a lucky landing. But if it made Kain like me… if Kain accepted me as his friend, then the other children would too, and my young heart longed for friends more than anything else in the world. _

_And all I had to do was take his dare. _

_I was seven, so as you can guess, before long I found myself on top of that accursed wall, balancing precariously and looking at what seemed to be an awfully long way down. _

_I tensed my leg muscles, shutting my eyes and trying to ignore the catcalls and taunts from below. I wondered what it would be like to have a broken leg. I wondered what would happen if I died. _

"_What are you doing up there? No, Mel, get down!" _

_My eyes flew open again. Estel? Only one person called me "Mel" – short for the Elvish word '_mellon_', which meant 'friend'. Two Elves were with him – his brothers. They came sometimes to town, to trade and talk with the village chief and one or two Elven merchants who had businesses in our town._

"_Mel! You'll break your legs! 'Dan, 'Ro, you have to stop her!"_

"_I have to do this! Why can't you understand?" I cried, looking pleadingly at him. The tension in my legs was unbearable. Before I could stop to think anymore, I jumped. _

_And was caught safely in the strong arms of Elladan, Estel's eldest brother. _

_Kain and the other children, sensing reprimand, had quietly disappeared, along with my only hope for acceptance among them. I burst into tears and clung helplessly to the Elf who held me. _

"_I understand more than you know, _mellon nin_," Estel whispered, running up to hug me as best as he could while Elladan held me. "And I stopped you because I care."_

_The memory swirled, darkness capturing me once more. Falling through space, I tumbled from a light in a sky that I had seen at least twice before. _

_The instant I entered the dreamscape, lavender flames began licking at my fur. I twisted in agony, rolling on the ground in a fruitless attempt to put out the fire. _

_What was happening? This was the same place I'd been before. But never before had the Stones attacked _me_. Orange light burst from the other Stone as well, burning, ripping, biting –_

_**- Enough! -**  
_

_The sharp command stopped the flames, and I could only roll over, gasping and panting. The pain had been so intense…_

_**- I'm sorry, little one. The stones are merely trying to tell you that you have failed your third test. I did not expect them to be so fierce about it, but then they were also angered by the presence of the Dark One's minions. They hate the Darkness as much as we do. - **  
_

_My eyebrow hiked up skeptically. The Voice chuckled. _

_**- They would not have killed you, little one. That was only their way of trying to tell you that you are wrong about something, and they were trying to show you back to the right path. No matter – this only means that you are not ready for the next token just yet. I shall hold on to it for you, until you understand. But yes, I knew I was taking a gamble in planning to give you this one next. Because of your past, you are far from ready for it. Now – I will send you back in a moment. Your friends are in need of you. -**  
_

_My friends? Of course! The battle! Moria! I had to go back!_

_As if on cue, the bright light appeared like a hole in the sky. Unhesitating, I leapt into it. They needed me! I had to go back. _

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I awoke to a scream of pure terror, but it took a while for me to realize that it was coming from my own throat in the form of wolf song – an agonized howl that gave voice to all my pent-up fear, frustration, and all the other feelings that had until now been buried inside me. To say it drew attention was an understatement, for at the sound of my voice everything stopped and turned to me for a split second – just enough for my friends to gain the upper hand, taking advantage of the Orcs' surprise to renew their attacks. And then battle was joined once more. I glanced around, taking in my surroundings through the veil of the usual orange glow.

The Fellowship was scattered throughout the chamber, fighting what seemed to be a large company of Orcs, and one giant cave troll. The hobbits were fighting near Gandalf, and Aragorn was near Boromir and Gimli, his sword whirling and stabbing and slashing and slicing.

Who hadn't I spotted yet?

The Elf. Legolas!

When I finally saw him, my heart nearly stopped. Cornered on an upper level by a stone pillar, he was facing the massive cave troll alone.

Couldn't wait for the others - they had their own problems. And no offense to Legolas' Elven pride, but I didn't think he could handle the cave troll by himself. Getting to my paws, I limped forward, snapping and snarling my way past two Orcs, and then I was there. The wolf in me took over, and I attacked the nearest tree trunk-sized leg, biting down as hard as I could, and scrabbling with my claws.

I might as well have gone and bitten the pillar. All I succeeded in doing was in tickling the creature, for it had leathery skin that was several layers thick, and as dangerous as my fangs were in a normal battle situation, they could not penetrate even one of those layers. I thought about this, and tried a new tactic. Backing up, I lowered my head like a bull's and charged, a lopsided, limping gait.

WHAM! My skull connected with the troll's leg. I stumbled backwards. White light! White light! Stars swam in my vision, and I sat down very suddenly.

Okay. Any more bright ideas?

But at least the troll was no longer focused on Legolas. It had now focused on me, the way one focuses on a fly flitting around their ankles.

"Lady! Watch out!" Legolas' shout seemed to come from a great distance away. He needn't have bothered, though – I'd seen the chain that the troll was swinging around his head, ready to bring it down on me. I dodged, ducking around a corner as quickly as I could. My leg throbbed – I still couldn't move as fast as I would be on four legs!

No time to think! It was swinging again! Curling my body, I rolled aside, into the narrow space between the pillar and wall. The chain crashed down in the spot I'd just rolled away from, sending bits of rubble and debris flying.

Snikt - thud! The satisfying swish of an arrow zipped through the air, embedding itself in the Troll's shoulder. It roared, and turned away from me.

The problem being was that now it had noticed Frodo, crouched nearby and armed only with his little sword – the sword that was glowing bright blue in the presence of the Orcs.

The troll swiped Sting aside as though Frodo had aimed a wooden toy blade at him.

"Frodo!" Sam's cry brought the attention of the Fellowship to what was happening. He shouted at the same time as Aragorn – the Ranger had also seen that the Ring-bearer was in danger. He fought his way over, picking his way over the bodies of dead Orcs and attacking with a spear from the floor nearby, stabbing the enormous creature with it. The troll bellowed, then suddenly ripped the spear out of its chest with surprising strength and slamming Aragorn into a pile of rocks near the wall. It advanced on Frodo. I struggled to my paws…

The troll stabbed, spear sinking into Frodo's stomach with sickening accuracy.

Time stopped.

I'll never forget the pained gasp that escaped Frodo's lips, nor the expression on his pale face as he collapsed in a lifeless heap on the ground.

It's funny how seeing your friend being killed can bring out the beast within – or the best within, depending on how you saw it.

With twin yells, Merry and Pippin launched themselves at the huge troll, leaping onto its shoulders and stabbing wildly with their swords. It roared and flung them off easily, but then Gimli was there, and Aragorn again, and Legolas with his bow and arrow. I don't know how he did it, but he felled the troll, firing one arrow straight into the cavern of its mouth. The troll crumpled, toppling forward, a vaguely surprised expression frozen onto its face.

I turned and headed for Frodo, but of course Sam beat me to his master's side. By now, all the Orcs that weren't dead had fled, and the rest of the Fellowship all made their way over as well. I couldn't even feel my hind leg by now, but I limp-crawled over on three legs anyhow.

Aragorn would probably have been angry with me, but he had other things on his mind.

Still, something seemed off. The wolf sensed something. I pushed my way forward, ears pricked and nose extended to sniff.

Aragorn slowly rolled Frodo's still body over. He jerked and groaned, gasping for breath.

"Mr Frodo!" Sam looked up at Gandalf, his smile splitting his face. "He's alive!"

The Fellowship breathed a collective sigh of relief, and so did I.

Frodo looked slightly pale, but he looked around and tried to reassure us. "I'm all right. I'm not hurt."

"You should be dead!" Aragorn said, voicing my thoughts. "That spear would have skewered a wild boar!"

"I think," Gandalf cut in from behind me, "That there's more to this hobbit than meets the eye."

I turned to look at the wizard. There was a twinkle in his eye. Turning back to Frodo, we all watched as the hobbit slowly pulled his shirt apart, revealing a light mail shirt beneath, made of –

"Mithril," breathed Gimli. "You are full of surprises, Master Baggins."

But there was no time for us to stop and savor the joy and relief. Frodo was alive, but I could hear the sound of the enemy returning with reinforcements. More Orcs were on their way. I started to warn my friends, but Gandalf had sensed them too, it seemed. Looking weary, he commanded, "To the Bridge of Khazad-Dum!" Staff in hand, he led the way.

And then, before I could even move a step, strong arms scooped me up and threw me unceremoniously over a shoulder. My first thought was that Aragorn had picked me up, and I struggled. Then, I caught sight of a quiver full of arrows, and realized that this wasn't the Ranger after all.

"Stop wriggling, Lady, I don't want to drop you!" And that was all the warning I got before the Elf began to run.

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RK9.


	9. I Guess Heaven Was Needing a Hero

**Disclaimer:** See previous chapters. The lyrics at the end are taken from the song "If Heaven Was Needing a Hero" by Jo Dee Messina, which isn't mine either.

**Author's notes:** I can officially welcome my new beta - **FairOphelia**! Yay! Break out the cake and wine - or grape juice for the underage!

I said no more updates till June 20, didn't I? Well... Let's put it this way. I've been hitting the econs books the ENTIRE day. I'm tired, and stressed, and scared that I'll fail...again, I might add, which would make me dead meat cause my teacher will kill me. But since FairOphelia was done beta-ing it, I thought - what the heck, and decided to upload it so you all don't have to wait so long and so I can take a rest from studying. But uh... don't tell my mom, okay? If anyone does it's likely I won't be updating ever, and that would be a permanent "never update", so... that's incentive not to tell her, right? Shh...

(throws out cookies and shamelessly bribes readers into silence)

Now, I can't recall whose review I replied to and not, but - thanks to MerryTheHobbit, Yellow-Fluffy-Monster, Kaisaan, Me (um, You?), Kage Fuschichou, Potcfanforever, Tumbleweed, the nameless reviewer whose review name appeared as "()" in my inbox, and Memory bleeds, and to Yassie and anyone else I missed... It's exam time, the brain, she is a little wonky...

**SwiftWolf** - Glad you liked the pic. :)

**Kaisaan** - LOL. Next stone, maybe chapter 9 or 10 I think. I don't want to dump them all in her lap in one go. And yeah, I'm an Aragorn/Arwen fan also. I think I might make it a Legomance, but we'll see where the bunnies lead me. :)

**()** - Yes, she will change back. Probably. I don't want to give her all the Stones in one go, so I thought I'd spread it out throughout the story.

**Memory bleeds** - Thanks! I was thinking it was time she failed a test. With her past, she couldn't possibly have passed it anyway, least not yet...whoops. Almost spoiler. :) Hope you keep reading!

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**Chapter 8**

Outside the rear door of the chamber, we ran past high, ornate pillars that were every bit as beautiful as the ones that Gandalf had shown us earlier. However, unlike before, we didn't have the time to stop and marvel at them. There were Orcs on our tail; my wolf hearing was starting to pick up the higher-pitched cackles of goblins. And if Legolas, who was carrying me as he ran – if he felt the weight of my heavy bulk, he wasn't complaining…but I was worried for him. Wolves aren't exactly featherweights.

The light of Courage had faded, and I felt strangely tired now. My head hurt from my bravado-fuelled tackle against the cave troll's leg, and my vision was blurry.

Maybe that was why I didn't see what was coming; I was in all kinds of pain and I wasn't focused. The wolf would have sensed it, but I wasn't fully wolf. Pain wouldn't have bothered the wolf – it was a predator, and predators can handle pain; they wouldn't let it bother them, deter them from what was important. No, it wasn't the wolf's fault – the wolf knew. It was me – the real, half-Elven me – who missed it.

But I did sense the goblins. And from my position over Legolas' shoulder, it was impossible for me to not see them coming after us. They were swarming like ants over the ground, even moving up the pillars and covering them completely with nimble goblin bodies.

To say we were grossly outnumbered would have been a huge understatement.

More cackles came from behind me and I felt Legolas stop. His grip tightened around me for a moment, before gently lowering me to the ground next to Sam. I turned – and wished I hadn't. More goblins were pouring towards us from the other side, a veritable river of them, and we had no choice but to allow them to herd us into a circle, with the hobbits and me inside and Gandalf and the warriors outside, weapons drawn. The army of goblins had us trapped.

I closed my eyes. All the Courage and Kindness in the world couldn't save us now. But if I were going to go down, I'd go down fighting. I hadn't been with the Fellowship long, but it didn't matter. I saw them as friends now, and for as long as there was breath in my body, I would fight for them. Because that was what friends did. Friends took care of each other; they stood by each other through thick and thin. They - they what?

It was at that moment that I understood something, something that I had never truly known before. At least I thought I did, and the Stone of Kindness started to glow gently, seeming to encourage me.

But I had no time to delve deeper into it – in fact, the thought vanished almost as soon as it materialized, for a miracle was happening. It was slow at first, but then the goblins put on speed and you could really see…they were retreating. They were hauling their little goblin behinds out of the cavern as fast as their little goblin feet could carry them. I couldn't help it – I gaped. What had just happened?

And then I saw Gandalf's face, and my elation vanished as quickly as the air from a popped balloon. He looked…scared? Gandalf, the mighty wizard, was _scared_? Of what? Uncertain, I turned my head to look where he was looking, but I couldn't see anything but what looked like a bright light at the end of the hall. And it was growing brighter…

"What is this new devilry?" demanded Boromir, gazing tentatively towards the light. His sword was still up and ready, his body tensed for what might come. Gandalf did not respond. His eyes closed, and once again he looked tired and tense. He seemed to be concentrating on something, and after a while he opened his eyes again, looking grimly back at us.

"A Balrog," he said, ominous warning in his words. "A demon of the ancient world."

I saw fear flicker through Legolas' eyes – apparently he knew what Gandalf was talking about. Boromir raised his sword higher, and Gimli's grip tightened on his axe. There was a roar in the distance, but Gandalf shook his head. "This foe is beyond any of you," he said, turning. "Run!"

We ran, Legolas stopping only to scoop me into his arms again. I sniffed cautiously – nervous fear was radiating from the Elf in waves, though he was too much of a warrior to show it, remaining outwardly calm and focused. Gandalf shepherded us through a small doorway in the wall.

"Quickly!" he urged us.

We entered a passageway and headed down a flight of steps from which Boromir nearly fell, for it was cut off at the end in a sudden drop. He yelled, flailing wildly, and Legolas dropped me as he surged forward to grab the man, tumbling backwards with him onto the steps. I rolled towards the edge, unable to control myself, scrabbling for a pawhold, and only _just_ managed to gain enough friction to stop at the very edge. Stout hobbit hands grabbed me by the silver chain around my throat, and I choked, but welcomed the grip that had pulled me back to safety. Sam had saved my life for the second time.

"I'm sorry, Lady!" the Elf said. His eyes were wide, his tone horrified, but I shakily nudged him to show him that I didn't blame him for what had almost happened.

"Pick her up again, Legolas, and go!" urged Gandalf. The wizard turned to Aragorn as Legolas complied, and I swear that his voice changed. It wasn't just the urgency; it was the command and finality I heard in it. He was giving the Ranger no choice. "Lead them on, Aragorn! The bridge is near!"

Aragorn's eyes reflected confusion, and even a little hurt. "Gandalf!"

"Do as I say!" Gandalf pushed Aragorn away from him. "Swords are no more use here!"

Legolas rounded the corner then, and I couldn't see or hear their exchange any more, but thankfully Aragorn and Gandalf were right behind us as we reached a new part of the mines. We headed down another flight of steps, this one twistier than the previous one. It too ended in a sudden break, but it was possible for one to jump down to the next section of steps. Legolas' Elven speed brought him to the front of the party, and he jumped, landing neatly on the other side. He set me down and turned to our friends. Ignoring the roars and rumbles of the Balrog which seemed to be getting louder and closer, he beckoned and called, "Gandalf!"

The wizard held tightly to his hat, leaping over the short distance easily. Legolas caught him by the arm, helping to steady him.

That was when I heard the sound of an arrow in flight, and taking note of our precarious position, I leapt forward and tugged the wizard and Elf back slightly. They looked up, jerking back just as the arrow whizzed by. Hot anger filled me – our enemies were taking advantage of our position to fire arrows at us from the sidelines. They were lucky they were so far away, or I'd have willingly taken them down. Cowards! I welcomed the familiar burn of the Stone of Courage at my throat, growling slightly, though the glow was not strong enough to surround me completely yet.

One by one, the others cleared the gap. Boromir, Gimli, Merry and Pippin, Sam, and finally Aragorn and Frodo, after a harrowing moment in which the steps they were standing on cracked and started to fall. Thankfully it fell forward, and they were able to step onto our side, and then we were on the move again.

The wolf was afraid now. The air in the mines seemed to be getting hotter, and the thunderous footfalls of the demon that pursued us echoed louder and louder with each massive step. Gandalf must have sensed it too, for he fell behind, urging us to keep moving.

"Over the bridge! Fly!" he called, guiding us around a pillar and pointing with his staff to a narrow stone bridge that spanned another massive gap and led to what I could only assume was an exit.

And then, looking over the Elf's shoulder, I saw it – a gigantic being of smoke and flame, with eyes of white fire, great ash-black horns and body and a mouth that breathed heat and smog. Like a great fiery bull, made completely out of shadow. The wolf in me was terrified, and to be completely honest, I was too. I didn't mind Legolas' strong arms holding me at all, in fact I'd have welcomed any kind of comfort at that moment. And as I stared, I began to understand why Gandalf had said that this was a foe beyond any of us here.

One by one – the narrow stone would allow nothing else – we raced across the bridge. And still the creature followed. And Gandalf – Gandalf turned to face it, and I swear my heart stopped as he faced off with the ancient demon midway across the bridge.

"Gandalf!" Frodo's cry was heartbreaking. He was watching in horror from the other side, and seemed about ready to run to the wizard's aid. Seeing this, Boromir caught up the hobbit in his arms, struggling to keep him there as Frodo fought against him.

"You cannot pass!" The wizard stood strong, staff in hand. "I am the servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor!" He lifted the staff, and light flowed from it, forming a protective globe around him. "The dark fire will not avail you, Flame of Udûn! Go back to the Shadow!"

He seemed to gather all of his strength then, pausing for a moment before he raised his staff, gripping it with both hands, and slammed it down onto the bridge. "You…shall…not… PASS!"

WHAM! The impact of wood against stone was deafening. The monster roared, and cracking a powerful bullwhip that seemed to be made of flame, it stepped onto the bridge. The ancient structure, now weakened by Gandalf's might, broke beneath its weight, and the creature let out one final roar as it dropped into the abyss.

Gandalf seemed to crumple in on himself, looking beyond exhausted. Turning he started towards us, but before he had taken more than two steps, the sound of a whip cracking caught our attention. The flaming whip of the Balrog snapped up and latched onto his ankles, dragging him over the edge. At the last moment he gripped onto the edge with his hands, trying hard to pull himself up again –

"NOOOOO!" cried Frodo. He actually stopped struggling, locking eyes with the wizard he loved so dearly. "Gandalf!"

Gandalf looked at us. He blew some of his hair out of his eyes and whispered, "Fly, you fools!"

And then he let go and allowed himself to fall into nothingness.

We all stared in horror as our friend disappeared. It took but a moment before Frodo started struggling once again.

"Aragorn!" called Boromir, holding the hobbit fast.

The Ranger seemed to be in shock, but as Orc arrows started flying at us from the other side, he snapped out of his daze and led us out, heading up the stairs and out, out into the blessed sunlight.

Sunlight which Gandalf would never see again. I turned my despairing gaze up, towards the golden orb that shone as brightly as ever. The sun didn't know that our world had just come crashing down around us. It didn't know that we had lost a friend. And if it had known, it wouldn't have cared. It was part of Nature, and things like Death could not touch it. What did it know of our shattered hearts and grief?

Legolas set me down again – dropped me really, for the Elf was stunned as well. Estel had told me long ago that Elves were immortal, and the only time they encountered death and loss was during battle, during war. He had to be hurting terribly, and how much worse it must feel if he'd never encountered this kind of loss before.

Gimli was being held back from venting his rage and sorrow by Boromir. The Dwarf was so blinded by emotion that he was fighting to rush back into the mines again – "to teach those cursed Orcs a lesson they'll never forget" - while the normally cheerful Pippin had collapsed in his cousin's arms. Sam looked devastated. Frodo was stumbling away. And as for me: More fiercely than ever before, I longed to be human again. See, I wanted to cry. I wanted to cry a lot, for a long time. And wolves don't cry.

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Aragorn gave us no time to dwell on our grief. Cleaning his sword and sheathing it, he set his face in a no-nonsense, businesslike expression and said, "Legolas, get them up.

"Give them a moment, for pity's sake!" Boromir exploded, but with pleading in his voice. Aragorn met his gaze steadily.

"By nightfall these hills will be swarming with Orcs. We must reach the woods of Lothlorien. Come, Boromir, Legolas, Gimli – get them up." He reached down and helped Sam to his feet. "On your feet, Sam. Frodo? Frodo!"

The call was sharp, but it effectively stopped the hobbit in his tracks. Frodo turned and looked back, and I'd never seen anyone look so… hopeless. Frodo was grieving more than all of us put together, perhaps, and I would have gone to his side and comforted him had Legolas not picked me up again and set me on his shoulder.

But no, Aragorn had not stopped caring. All of a sudden, I understood. No, he hadn't stopped caring at all. It was _because_ he cared that he was doing this, because he valued our safety and our lives. Grieving could come later, but for now, we had no time for that. We had to reach a safe place first, and then, once we were safe, we could grieve in peace.

This realization didn't make the pain in my heart any less, but at least I understood why he was being so strict now in the face of our sorrow. A moan slithered out of my throat, and I buried my face in Legolas' shoulder as Frodo took Aragorn's offered hand. The Elf hugged me close to him and then we were moving again, towards the Golden Wood.

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"_I guess heaven was needing a hero  
Somebody just like you  
Brave enough to stand up for what you believe and follow it though  
When I try to make it make sense in my mind  
The only conclusion I come to  
Is that Heaven was needing a hero… like you…" _

_- Jo Dee Messina, "If Heaven Was Needing a Hero"_

RK9.


	10. Of Elves, Arrows and The Third Stone

**Disclaimer: **See previous chapters.

**Author's Notes: **Exams are over!! For now... more to come...but I'm gonna celebrate today at least! Well, I did my best - the rest is up to God. Hope my teachers mark with a lenient hand. :) Right, here's chapter 9! Thanks FairOphelia for the beta work! Thanks to all who reviewed!

**Camille** - Thank **_you_** for reviewing! I'm glad you like it. :)

**dansa** - Nope, she hasn't. It won't be that easy. Thanks for cheering! I want a passing grade too!

**Kaisaan** - Legolas romance... most likely. But if I do throw in romance, I won't be doing it in this fic. If enough people want it, I'll probably do a sequel after this ends for their romance. Because for me, I feel that even if she falls in love with Legolas, it won't be very realistic for him to fall for a wolf.

**Conor Guard of the white tree** and **Rushingriver** - thanks for the reviews! Hope you stick around!

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**Chapter 9**

It was nightfall by the time we reached the borders of Lorien. Boromir was carrying me now, and I felt bad for Legolas, who looked tired – I hadn't even known Elves could look so exhausted. But all jokes aside, I knew it was because he'd had an extra burden to carry, and I was sorry.

Moria felt miles behind us now, but the memory of the loss of Gandalf was still much too near, a memory that we would never really be able to run away from. We all felt the loss, even those of us who hadn't known the wizard for very long, like me. There was definite hole in the one that was our Fellowship, and it was causing us to start fraying at the edges as grief mixed with fear and exhaustion, wearing us down.

Aragorn called a halt at long last, and Boromir set me down gladly. I nuzzled his leg, trying to tell him that I was sorry that he had to carry me. Technically I could walk, but then I'd be left behind in no time because I couldn't keep up with the others. The Man of Gondor sighed and gave me a pat on the head, then walked away, leaving me alone.

Still I wasn't truly alone – not with my friends so near - and anyway I was glad to be in the woods again. The trees here were different from the ones in the woods near my mother's village, but there was something universal about all forests that appealed to me in this form. After being underground with rock and stone in Moria, it was nice to feel grass under my pads again. I closed my eyes, breathing in the scent of the forest, letting Nature comfort me as only she knew how.

_Crunch._

Huh? I opened my eyes again in a hurry, ears pricked. I couldn't see so well in the darkness, but my nose picked up some strange scents that reminded me of Legolas, somehow… But they were still strange, and unbidden, the wolf in me began to growl. There was an instant response, though not one I'd been expecting.

Something flew almost soundlessly from the trees, slamming into my right shoulder. Blinking, I looked down, struggling to make out the slender shape in the dark.

It was an arrow.

And then the pain started, and I howled in agony. The wolf tried to bite, to attack the thing that was causing it pain, but I clamped down firmly on the impulse, focusing on moving away instead. That would do me no good; I had to get out of the line of fire!

And it was only then, as I struggled to get away, that I actually gave a thought as to who had fired the arrow at me in the first place. But that was quickly overlapped by a burning desire to get out of the way, since more arrows were now flying in my direction. Guided by the wolf's survival instincts, I set up an erratic path of motion in a dangerous game of 'dodge-the-arrow', handicapped by my shoulder, which throbbed painfully and hindered my speed. Another one entered my right thigh as I finally reached Aragorn and the others. Collapsing at Gimli's feet, I just lay there, panting, completely spent.

Aragorn called out something in Elvish – I think a plea or command for them to stop shooting, since the rain of arrows slowly ceased. Boromir had gathered the hobbits to him and had his sword out, looking around fiercely. Legolas knelt down, his concerned face looking into mine. Shock kept me from reacting, and now the adrenaline rush was fading along with my consciousness.

"Lady, stay with us… Lady!"

But he had become just another voice in a black void, and after a while I could no longer hear him calling.

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Like a shadow in the night, this bout of unconsciousness faded quickly. Groaning, I shifted, whimpering in complaint. I couldn't seem to move, each of my legs was tightly bound around with some white cloth material, and there was another strip wrapped around my shoulder and neck.

"Ah, Aragorn! The lass is awake." Gimli's familiar voice rumbled, and I turned to look up at the Dwarf. Aragorn was suddenly beside me, and I breathed in his familiar scent to quell the wolf's nervousness. '

Why was I nervous? What was the human side of me not seeing that the wolf could see?

I was lying down on a wooden platform, and the night wind was ruffling across my fur. Stars twinkled through the tree branches at me…

_Tree branches?_ I sat up, and winced. What was it with these people? I join their Fellowship and all of a sudden I keep getting injured even before I've recovered from the previous injuries? Well okay, so maybe it wasn't their fault, but I was both tired, and tired of it all. I felt I was entitled to _some_ snappishness.

"Slowly, Lady, we don't want you to fall over the edge. The Elves are used to it, but you are not." Aragorn gently pushed me down again. "And stop wriggling – the bandages had to be tight, with the amount of blood you were losing after I pulled out the arrows from your leg and shoulder."

Fall off the edge? I turned my head to look around me. There was a single lamp hung from a tree branch nearby, and it was then that I realized that we were in a tree, quite a long way from the ground, since all I could see were the tops of other trees. Boromir was here with Aragorn and me, and in another tree not too far away I could see Legolas and the four hobbits on a similar platform.

"You were shot by one of the Elves in the Lorien border patrol, Lady. They are suspicious of strange creatures or folk here, and that is why when they saw you they assumed you to be a threat to Lorien and her inhabitants. The patrol leader and marchwarden, Haldir, was the one whose arrow came to rest right," he gently touched my shoulder and made me whine, "here. But thankfully he has agreed to let us stay the night here, and tomorrow we shall head for Caras Galadhon to meet with the Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel, who rule here."

"Yes, but only after Aragorn assured him that you were no more of a threat to them than I am," Gimli grumbled, eyes flashing darkly. "And only _after_ Aragorn argued with that high-and-mighty Elf-warden for what felt like an age…"

As Boromir placed a gently warning hand on the Dwarf's shoulder, I raised an eyebrow at Aragorn. It was probably a good thing Legolas hadn't been here to hear that. Aragorn's wisdom in keeping them on separate platforms was starting to become clear to me. We didn't want any fights breaking out where there was little space and a long drop to the ground, now did we?

Aragorn chuckled softly, in a way that reminded me of someone that I had once known. He was like my old friend Estel in many ways, this Ranger. Maybe that was why he and I had become friends so quickly. His kindness, his caring, his sense of responsibility… Estel had had all those traits. I sighed, suddenly missing him very much indeed. Would Estel still be my friend if he had been there when I had been turned into a wolf? I hoped so. Maybe someday, when this was all over, I'd go back to Rivendell, look him up. If he was still there, maybe we could meet and catch up with one another. It probably wouldn't be like old times, but… it would be nice to see how he had turned out, what he was doing now. Even back then, I'd always known Estel would go far in life – further than I would, anyway.

A hand on my head – Aragorn was speaking to me. "Get some sleep, Lady. Gimli, you and Boromir should rest as much as you can, too. We have a long journey tomorrow, and we're all tired out."

I nodded against his hand, obediently laying my head on my paws. Gimli's familiar rumbles, Aragorn's calm breaths and Boromir's grunts as he made himself comfortable against the trunk – the lullaby of my friends, and it carried me into a peaceful slumber.

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_The dreamscape was different this time. Some things remained, like the pool of clear water in which I could see my reflection, and the little bird whose song had changed yet again. But around me, the forest was silent, and the wolf was inclined to be wary and cautious – in our world, a silent forest meant that danger was near. The human in me was merely curious, and I wondered why I was here again. I'd thought I could only come here when I blacked out – this was my first time here after falling asleep on my own. _

_**- Welcome again, Huan's daughter. -** _

_I glanced around, but as usual, saw nothing except the glowing butterflies. When I looked closer, I saw that they carried yet another stone, and were approaching me. Was this…?_

_**- Yes, your new Stone. In the mines – I do not know if you remember, but you realized something very important, and in doing so I deemed you ready to receive your third Stone. -** _

_The butterflies flitted over, and I felt them landing on my neck, soft wings fluttering as another stone was attached to my chain, evenly spaced between the Stone of Courage and the Stone of Kindness. This one was dark blue, and bore a strange symbol that I couldn't quite make out –_

_**- Two hands, joined together. -** The Voice sighed a little. **- This one is powerful, and can be frequently misunderstood and underestimated. But in darkness, it binds people together and gives strength. It cares, it sacrifices, it does what needs to be done for the good of others. -**_

_I remembered now. I'd been upset. It had seemed to me that Aragorn didn't want to let me fight because I'd been a burden, because he saw me as useless and in the way – or worse, that he thought me a coward. And then I'd thought he didn't understand me when I insisted on fighting and he insisted I stay out of the way. But it was the other way around – I hadn't understood that it was because he cared about me, because he didn't want to see me get hurt…_

_**- "Friends take care of each other, they stand by each other through thick and thin", -** the Voice quoted me softly. _

_Like Aragorn had wanted to take care of me. He didn't want to see me get hurt, and my pride had blinded me to his gesture of caring, borne out of… friendship. _

_The Stone around my neck glowed, and the symbol of joined hands appeared in my mind. _

_So that was the trait it represented. I smiled. Above me, a familiar bright hole was opening. _

_**- Goodbye, Huan's daughter. Until we meet again. - **She laughed. **- It will be sooner than you think… - **_

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When I next opened my eyes, it was to one of the most amazing sights on all Middle-Earth. Dawn had broken, and the sun was rising in the east. And from our position on top of the tree, the beauty and magnificence was somehow made even better. Orange, yellow and red streaks covered the sky, and slowly, the night was making way for the day to take over. It was times like these that made me proud to be part of Nature.

Aragorn was awake, and I wondered if the Ranger had slept at all the night before. Still, he seemed rested, and so did Boromir and Gimli as they prepared to make the trip back down to the ground. Aragorn dropped a long rope ladder from some hidden nook or cranny, and brought out a sort of harness made of ropes. Seeing me eyeball it, he smiled.

"How did you think we brought you up here yesterday, Lady?" he asked me, and came towards me to fit me into it. The harness gave support to my front and my hindquarters, but was still as uncomfortable as I'd suspected it would be. Boromir and Gimli climbed down the ladder while Aragorn lowered me to the ground, and finally the Ranger joined us last down below, where the hobbits and Legolas greeted us. It was so good to be on the ground again… and Sam, Pippin, Merry and Frodo all greeted me with eager hugs, bless them. I snuffled and licked and nuzzled, showing that I was pleased to see them again too.

"Lady, this is Haldir," Aragorn introduced, when finally I freed myself from the hobbits. I turned to look up at the tall, dark blonde Elf, who stood with a party of Elves who were clad in the red and gold colors of Lorien. Uncertainly, I nodded to him in greeting.

"I am sorry I shot you, Lady Wolf," he said, in halting Common, as though he was unused to the language. "We were under the impression that all wolves were in the service of the Dark Lord, but Aragorn of the Dúnedain has assured me that you are most definitely not one of them, and are in fact a trusted friend of this Fellowship. I hope you understand that I was only protecting the realm that I love and her people?"

Did he really expect me to say: "Oh, don't worry about it; I'd have shot me too"? Let's see how he'd feel if I put an arrow in his shoulder – I bit back a growl, startling myself. Whoa, I must have gotten less sleep than I'd thought I had. Pushing aside the sudden, surprising surge of hatred and anger, I gave Haldir a tentative wolf-smile and tried to convey that I forgave him. The Stone of Friendship began to glow, pushing away the last of the darkness I'd felt growing in the back of my mind, and suddenly the forgiveness was genuine.

Legolas picked me up, settling me on his shoulder as Haldir turned to his patrol and signaled that it was time for us to get moving. His gaze fell on the Stone of Friendship, which still glowed brightly at my throat beside the other two.

"Another one?" he asked, looking confused. "I thought you only had one at first, and then suddenly you had two, and now there's a third?"

Well, Legolas, it's a long story… and I'll tell it to you when wolves talk. Smiling slightly to myself, amused by my own wit, I turned my head to watch the path as we traveled.

But I couldn't forget what had just happened. I'm usually pretty gentle, if I do say so myself. I've been described as an understanding and forgiving person who doesn't hold grudges. I try to reserve hatred and anger for those who truly deserve it, not for noble Elves who merely want to protect their home. I was, to all appearances, a wolf, and to these Elves who had likely been around when Morgoth had threatened Arda, of course they'd looked at me and seen a threat. How could they not, when Morgoth himself had bred two of the most dangerous wolves ever? Everyone knew of the stories of Carcharoth and Draugluin, the terrible wolves of old. And Sauron himself, the Enemy of the Free Peoples of Middle-Earth, was said to be able to take the form of a great wolf. Gandalf had told me that in Moria, and I saw why he hadn't been willing to trust me so quickly when we'd first met after the wolf attack.

The Stone's glow intensified slightly, then faded again. I sighed, wishing Gandalf were still here. He might be able to help me understand this, if I managed to explain myself to him. But he wasn't, and I couldn't, and I would never see him again. Until then, I would just have to try and hold back the wave of darkness that I sensed creeping up upon me. Glancing around at my friends as they walked by my side, I couldn't hold back another smile. A new realization brought hope. My friends. They would help me through this. They would be my light, and hopefully, with their help, I could overcome the Shadow that seemed to be trying to take me over from within.

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The rest of the day passed in travel, and it was evening again when we finally crested the top of a small hill. Haldir and the Lorien Elves stopped, a look of mingled love and pride on their faces. He turned to us, pointing out below us, behind the mists and under the sunset. A great glade of trees rose up into the sky, and I heard the Fellowship gasp slightly as we stood there and took in its beauty for the first time.

"Caras Galadhon," said Haldir, and I felt the love in his voice, saw it in his eyes and face. "The heart of Elvendom on earth. Realm of the Lord Celeborn, and Galadriel – Lady of Light."

Legolas gently shifted me in his arms. "It looks more and more beautiful to me each time I see it," he whispered to me, wonderingly. "I have kin here, it will be good to see those of them who are still here, those who have not sailed into the West."

I nudged his shoulder, responding in the only way I could. The Elf must feel like he was returning home. Well, it looked like he would have a better homecoming than Gimli had had, and after Gandalf, I guessed he deserved some time with his people. Hopefully they would help him feel better, help ease his grief, and hopefully Lorien would help heal us all.

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RK9.


	11. The Golden Woods

**Disclaimer: **Not mine.

**Author's notes:** Yep, chapter ten is up too. :) Thank FairOphelia for betaing both so fast. Chapter 11 is now with her for checking, too. Enjoy, and please let me know what you think!

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**Chapter 10**

The wolf approved of Lothlorien. Yes, there were too many trees for my liking, but it was still a beautiful place, and there was an aura of light and peace that surrounded it, an atmosphere that healed and brought joy to all who entered here. We walked down a curving walkway past several tree-platforms – I knew now that Haldir called them _flets_ or _talans_ – and ascended a stairway that wound around and around, leading up to an archway. It was here that Legolas set me down to stand on my own paws, and then all of us looked up as two of the most beautiful Elves I had ever seen in my life came walking slowly down to our level, surrounded by a pure white glow. I'd never met them before in my life, but I guessed that this must be the Lord Celeborn and his wife: the beautiful Lady Galadriel. Glancing around, I could see that the rest of the Fellowship were as awed as I felt. Gimli's mouth was actually hanging open a little, and Pippin was openly staring, his little eyes wide.

Lord Celeborn was tall, with blond hair that was tied in a neat braid behind him. He was dressed in formal silver robes, and his wife was just as resplendent in a shimmering white gown. Starlight and wisdom shone in her eyes, and I sensed that she was one who saw much more than what eyes alone could show. Strangely enough, the wolf found that it could not look directly at her for too long, and so I turned my attention elsewhere.

Haldir stepped to one side, dipping his head in a respectful bow to his Lord and Lady, and Aragorn and Legolas followed suit, with the Ranger touching his head reverently in greeting. I limped forward clumsily, stepping stiffly, and lowered the front of my body in a bow. Naturally, my next problem was in struggling not to fall forward on my face, because my shoulder gave way and I would have dropped like a rock and embarrassed myself had Legolas not been there to catch me and help me to sit up. I gave him a grateful look and turned to face the two ruling Elves of Lothlorien.

Galadriel was looking thoughtfully at me, a smile on her face.

_**- Welcome, daughter of Huan. -** _

I jerked, startled. The Voice! Was she here? But no, the tone of this voice had been different. Had it been – I had heard stories about the Lady of Lorien, who could speak straight to the minds of others. Had that been… the Lady of Light herself?

Galadriel's smile grew wider at my speculations, if anything, but she said no more as her husband began to speak, her gaze moving to the rest of the Fellowship and ending on Frodo. Celeborn, however, addressed Aragorn.

"The Enemy knows you have entered here," he said, using Common so that everyone in the Fellowship could understand. Like Haldir, he spoke slowly, as though unused to the language. "What hope you had in secrecy is now gone. Nine there are here, but among you I see one who did not set out from Rivendell with the Company, and I do not see the one I had hoped to meet with the most." His gaze turned slightly sharp as he enquired, "Tell me, where is Gandalf?"

His wife's eyes flickered to Aragorn, who looked up.

"For I much desire to speak with him," Celeborn went on. "I can no longer see him from afar."

"He has fallen into Shadow." His wife's response was quiet, yet it held in it a finality and sorrowful certainty – she knew. She knew that the wizard no longer walked among the living in Arda. And now that I heard her speak aloud, I knew that I had been right in guessing that she had been the voice that I'd heard in my head when we'd first arrived here.

Aragorn's expression had turned very solemn, and he merely nodded. Legolas, however, spoke aloud to confirm what Galadriel had said.

"He was taken by both Shadow and Flame: a Balrog of Morgoth," he said, and I heard the sadness in his voice that was still raw. "For we went needlessly into the net of Moria."

Gimli's head dropped slightly at this. I wondered why. Surely he did not blame himself? Yes, he had been the one who had been suggesting that they travel through Moria from the very beginning, despite Gandalf's worries about the mines, but he could not have known about the danger and darkness that awaited us there. Gandalf's death hadn't been his fault any more than it had been mine, or Frodo's, or Pippin's. It was the Balrog who had killed the wizard, and no one else. I struggled to go to him, wanting to lend him comfort from the Stone of Kindness at least, but Galadriel spoke first.

"Needless were none of the deeds of Gandalf in life. We do not yet know his full purpose." She faced Gimli, and I sensed that her words had been meant to comfort the Dwarf as well. "Do not let the great emptiness of Khazad-Dum fill your heart, Gimli, son of Gloin. For the world has grown full of peril, and in all lands, love is now mingled with grief." She ended, her gaze on Boromir, and the Man gasped and turned away. Gimli looked up, and I relaxed at the hope I saw in his gaze.

"What now becomes of this Fellowship?" Celeborn wanted to know, facing Aragorn again. "Without Gandalf, hope is lost."

My head jerked up to look at the ancient Elven lord. That wasn't true. Hope never faded. Sometimes it was hidden from view, but it would always shine, no matter how hard the darkness tried to hide it. But I couldn't say that, of course – at least, not aloud. Galadriel's knowing eyes returned to me.

_**- You are wiser than you appear, Huan's daughter. -** _

I flushed. I wasn't wise. That was something my mother had told me, long ago. Before she'd died. I was merely repeating her words, her wisdom...though I hadn't done it out loud. Wait. Galadriel had read my thoughts?

_**- I see many things, little one, -**_ the Lady smiled.

"The quest stands upon the edge of a knife," she said aloud. "Stray but a little, and it will fail to the ruin of all. Yet, hope remains while the Company is true." She looked at sturdy little Sam, who stood loyally by Frodo's side, and smiled. Sam gazed back, utterly captivated. I couldn't tell if he'd caught what she was saying about him, but unlike Boromir, he met the Lady's gaze without fear. I was so proud of him. Even I had not been able to look Galadriel in the eyes like he was doing now.

"Now – do not let your hearts be troubled," she went on. "Go now and rest, for you are weary with sorrow and much toil. Tonight you will sleep in peace. We have prepared a comfortable sleeping place for you – on the ground, for I believe that not all of you are accustomed to our _talans_. Haldir will lead you there." She turned to look at Frodo, whose eyes widened slightly in response, and I wondered if she was speaking to his mind, too.

_**- Welcome to the Golden Wood, daughter of Huan. When you have recovered, we will speak again. We have much to talk about, it seems. -** _

And then Legolas scooped me into his arms, and we were following our guide to where we were to sleep. I was tired, too, so I didn't complain. But even as I closed my eyes and let sleep claim me, one question drifted into my dreams and stayed there throughout the night.

If Galadriel knew so much, did she see exactly who and what I was?

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Aragorn woke me later that night. He didn't mean to, he was just checking my injuries, but even his gentle touch roused me at once. I didn't know where the Ranger had acquired his skills in the healing arts, but I was sure grateful for them, so I didn't complain.

Someone was singing. Harmonious Elven voices filled the air, and I felt a sense of memory and sorrow as they sang in what was to me the mysteriously beautiful language of the Elves. I looked up and beyond the little alcove that had been given to us as a sleeping place, at the foot of a tall, silvery _mallorn_ tree. Legolas was outside, just returning with a pitcher of water. As I watched, he stopped, listening to the song.

"A lament for Gandalf," he said softly, pensively.

By my side, the Ranger gave me a final pat on the head as he rose and moved away to sharpen his sword. He too seemed to be listening to the lament, and pondering the words that were being sung. Gimli was dozing nearby, while the hobbits were settling down for the night around me. Sam had put his bedroll in between mine and Frodo's, and I was touched at this gesture of trust and friendship. Spreading out his roll, Merry looked up at Legolas curiously.

"What do they say about him?" he wanted to know, referring to the song.

Legolas' gaze dropped, staring at something only he could see on the ground below. "I have not the heart to tell you," he answered. "For me the grief is still too near."

Sam crouched down, fluffing out his little pillow. "Well, I bet they don't mention his fireworks. There should be a verse about them," he said to Merry, before turning to me. "You should have seen them, Lady. One of his best was this one shaped like a dragon that Master Merry and Master Pippin stole back in the Shire, at Mr Frodo's birthday party. It was this big," he demonstrated with his hands, "and when it exploded it turned into a big green dragon, made of smoke and star-fire, and it flew down from the night sky and over the heads of all us unsuspecting hobbits before disappearing. Whew! That's as near as I'll ever go to a dragon in my lifetime, though." He thought for a moment, then stood up to recite what was apparently his own composition:

"_The finest rockets ever seen,  
__They burst in stars of blue and green…  
__Or after thunder, silver showers  
__Came falling like a rain of flowers… _oh, that doesn't do them justice by a long road," he ended, sadly.

Frodo spoke up unexpectedly. He was deeper within the alcove, his face hidden by shadow, but I could see tears shining in his bright blue eyes. "Oh, Sam. That was just beautiful, just perfect. Gandalf would have approved, too, I know."

Around my neck, the Stones of Kindness and Friendship began to glow softly. I looked at Frodo with as gentle an expression as I could put on my face. The wolf sensed that he was grieving still. Frodo looked back at me, and slowly, he smiled back at me.

"Goodnight, Lady," he said softly, and I nodded as he rolled over on his sleeping roll. A yawn caught me by surprise, and I settled my head down on my paws. Sleep didn't seem like such a bad idea after all.

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We had been staying at Lothlorien for a week already. We all had healing to do, for wounds both physical and spiritual, and resting too, as we slowly recovered our strength and our spirit for the journey that was still before us. Aragorn spent much of that week in conference with Legolas, Haldir and the Lord and Lady, planning the best route to be taken and what preparations would have to be made - until Legolas put his foot down and insisted that the Ranger get some rest too. It was the first time I got a glimpse of the bond between them, a deep friendship filled with trust and brotherly love that activated the Stone of Friendship right away with its strength and intensity.

When he wasn't in conference, though, he was with the hobbits and I, checking on me, or helping Boromir teach Merry and Pippin swordplay. Gimli was surprisingly cheerful – I hadn't expected it from the Dwarf, surrounded by Elves as we were, but then again I supposed that complaining about it would be like looking a gift horse in the mouth. Better this than for him to offend our hosts, after all.

Frodo spent much time with his loyal Sam, wandering the beautiful woods, lost in thought and memory. Still, he seemed to be healing inside, where it counted… and yet, I sensed that his burden became heavier with every passing day. I was worried for him, but I had no idea what I could do.

As for me, I wasn't allowed off my sleeping pallet, except for taking care of nature's call, and some short periods of exercise under strict supervision - this consisted of me limping around the clearing near our sleeping area in haphazard circles until I became tired, or until whoever was keeping an eye on me decided I had done enough…usually Aragorn or Legolas, as these two had decided that the others should be allowed to rest rather than be forced to babysit me…though I don't think the hobbits would have minded, really.

I think Boromir found the least peace in Lothlorien compared to the rest of us, though. I don't know why, and I didn't ask him. If there was one thing that I had learned about Boromir by now, it was that his greatest strength and weakness was the same thing: Pride. He had an abundance of it, and he was the most difficult member of the Company to befriend. His trust I had – but to a certain extent only. It wasn't that I didn't try to make friends with him, either. It was just more… difficult, though I did know that it wasn't as bad for him when it came to Aragorn or any of the others. Perhaps that was because they had spent more time together since leaving Rivendell, and I had only come in halfway. Perhaps it was because I was not, and would never be a member of their Fellowship. I had no idea.

Besides Boromir, the other source of mistrust – this one running far deeper than Boromir's – was a small number of the Lorien Elves. Twice already I had experienced the joy of watching the elflings of the Golden Woods playing in front of or near me, and I would watch them because doing so filled me with a deep feeling of peace and joy. It's the same feeling one gets when they see children anywhere laughing and running around, and you become enchanted by their happy innocence. But unfortunately, their parents didn't agree to this at all. The minute they caught sight of me watching their children, they would snatch up their offspring and rush away, casting fearful or hateful looks at me over their shoulders. One had even sent a small stone skimming past me, narrowly missing my nose.

Don't get me wrong – most of the Elves who visited me were nice, even if they only wanted to see the wolf about whom rumors had been spread far and wide throughout the Golden Wood. They were fascinated by me, the first and only wolf to ever enter Lorien and be allowed past her borders. I allowed this fascination and interest only because I had no other choice, for I could not leave my sleeping pallet, and all the time I hoped that it would fade quickly.

But then our second week in Lothlorien had started, and I received a visit from the Lady of the Galadhrim herself.

Dressed in a white gown similar in design to what she had been wearing the night we had arrived, Lady Galadriel moved with the same flowing grace that all her people had, sweeping regally towards me. My pallet had been shifted outside for the day – Aragorn, as my self-appointed healer, had decided that I needed some sunlight and fresh air outside of the sleeping alcove. I was bored, and so looked upon my visitor with welcome.

The rest of the Fellowship weren't around – only Aragorn was taking a rare nap under the tree nearby, and he awoke as Galadriel spoke to me.

"_Mae govannen, tithen pen_," she murmured, spreading her hands in a gesture of greeting. "_Gîl síla na lû govaded, a im gelir ceni ad lín._"

I stared at her, eyebrow raised. I hadn't the foggiest idea what she was saying, and I knew she knew that I didn't. She laughed merrily at my expression, and looked up to smile at Aragorn as he stepped up to join us, nodding to him as well. "_Suilaid, Elessar._"

"_Suilaid,_" responded Aragorn, nodding back respectfully. "_Man anírach cerin an le?_"

I couldn't take it anymore. Glaring at both of them, I growled. If they weren't going to speak a language I understood, I was leaving.

Galadriel laughed again, turning her ageless gaze to me. "Peace, little one. You cannot blame us for wanting to converse in the language that we are both most familiar with, can you?"

I could, but when she put it that way, it made me feel kind of selfish… With a sigh, I looked at her. What did she want, anyway?

"I wish to speak with you, little one," Galadriel told me, her tone calm, gentle as the surface of a lake on a day with no wind. "The time has come for me to address the all-important question of who and what you truly are." She took a seat on a nearby root, seemingly unconcerned that her pure white frock might get dirty.

Aragorn stood. "Then I should leave," he offered, glancing at me with an unreadable expression. "This sounds like a discussion which requires some privacy for those involved."

The Lady of Lorien held up one commanding hand that stopped him in his tracks. "No, Elessar. You are right about privacy for those involved; but you have forgotten the simple fact that _you_ are involved also. You care for her, you see her as a friend. Therefore, what I have to say here is for your ears just as much as it is for hers. Am I right, little Lady?"

I hesitated, but nodded. It did make sense, I supposed. But anyway, I trusted Aragorn – I trusted all of the Fellowship, and I had no problems with him staying. If I were completely honest with myself, the Lady of Lorien unsettled the wolf deeply, and I would rather not be alone with her. Looking at Aragorn, I communicated this with a desperate whine. The Ranger looked at me, startled for a moment, but then he nodded in understanding and moved to sit cross-legged beside me.

"If you want me to stay, Lady, then I shall," he told me softly. "If you are sure you do not mind."

I snuffled, rubbing my head against him, feeling comforted. Of course I trusted him. I trusted the entire Fellowship.

"Very good," Galadriel murmured softly, though I wasn't sure what or who she was referring to. "All right then. Come, Lady. Let us discuss your past…and about the future that I see in front of you." She folded her hands comfortably in her lap, and as the sun rose higher into the sky, we sat in the shade of the _mallorn_ tree and began our discussion.

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**Translations:**

_**Mae govannen, tithen pen**_ – Well met, little one.  
_**Gîl síla na lû govaded, a im gelir ceni ad lín**_ – A star shines upon the hour of our meeting, and I am happy to see you again.  
_**Suilaid, Elessar**_ – Greetings, Elfstone (Aragorn's surname, long foretold and given to him in Lorien by Galadriel)  
_**Man anírach cerin an le**_ – What can I do for you?

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The Sindarin I got from a useful site of Elvish phrases, so please excuse any mistakes there.

Please do press the pretty purple button. I would like to know what you all think. :)

RK9.


	12. The Promise

**Disclaimer:** Not own Lord of the Rings or the song whose lyrics are at the bottom - that belongs to the Corrs. You not sue-y.

**Author's notes:** Thanks to pixie freak, Kage Fuschichou, dansa, Rushingriver and Mish for reviewing. :) Here's the next chapter for ya.

**Mish** - Oh, thanks! I'm glad she's not like the others, but I do feel that I have to clarify this: **If a Tenth Walker means someone who is part of the Fellowship, then no, Lady is not a Tenth Walker because she is not part of the Fellowship, not really, she's just traveling with them for her own reasons and because she cares about them and their Quest.** If a Tenth Walker also means someone who isn't part of the Fellowship but who travels with them, then it's okay, but otherwise I don't call her one. But seriously, thanks for your review. It made my day. :) I hope you keep enjoying this!

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**Chapter 11**

Sunlight streamed gently into the clearing where I sat with the Ranger and the Lady. My legs were stiff, and I stretched them slightly before facing Galadriel. She'd said she would come and speak to me, so I had really been expecting her for quite some time now. I was slightly nervous, but figured that I had nothing to hide and so I had nothing to fear.

The Lady smiled thoughtfully before she began. When she spoke, her first words were: "That branch is about to break, even though it is struggling to carry you still, lest you fall, Thranduilion. Perhaps you had better come down and join us rather than eavesdrop like a spy from above us?" She glanced up into the branches that shaded us, and I realized that a certain Elven member of our Fellowship was seated neatly on a groaning upper branch.

Even the Ranger and I had not sensed that we were not alone. Torn between amusement and surprise, we watched as a rather abashed Legolas slid down from the _mallorn_ with only the barest of rustling. He glanced at me, opened his mouth, then closed it again. I stared hard, pricking up my ears as I saw an actual tinge of pink in his cheeks.

I hadn't even known that Elves could blush! I grinned at him, thumping my tail against the ground in welcome, trying to tell him that I didn't mind that he'd tried to listen in – though he could have just asked, really.

"Sorry, my Lady," Legolas mumbled to Galadriel. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop, truly. I just… I was in the tree even before your approach, and I did not know how to come down without drawing attention to myself."

Her eyes twinkled merrily at him. "Do not concern yourself, Legolas. It was a trivial matter - come, sit with us. You have also been curious about Lady, I know. I did not miss you asking my husband or your cousins here about foreign gemstones in the past week."

Legolas' cheeks flushed a little more as I glanced at him. I did remember him noticing the necklace I wore, commenting on how I kept adding stones to my collection. He settled down next to the Ranger, crossing his long Elven legs as he sat.

"I noticed these, too." Aragorn gently fingered my chain. I waited for a reaction from the Stones, but none came – maybe because he was only touching the chain that held them. "Do you know anything about them, my Lady?"

The Elven Lady shook her head slightly. "I know little about them, but it could be argued that even the little knowledge I have on them is very important. But come, let us digress no further. Lady," she said, turning to me, "Let us first address the issue of who you are. Ever since your arrival here, I have sensed something unnatural about you, something strange. It is the feeling of dark magic, and yet you yourself exude no aura of evil or malice. I am positive that you are not one of the Dark Lord's many servants -" here I shook my shaggy head vigorously, "- and besides, I sense that you are no true wolf."

I shook my head again. I wanted to speak, to say something, but I couldn't. Galadriel regarded me, then smiled.

"Nenya has helped me to read your thoughts before, Lady, but I would rather refrain from doing this as it would be rather an invasion of privacy. So, I suppose we shall start with 'yes' and 'no' questions. Are you truly a wolf?"

I shook my head firmly.

"I see. So, somewhere along the way, your form was changed. Did you do so willingly?"

Again, I shook my head.

"I did not truly think you had," murmured Galadriel, while Aragorn and Legolas stared at me with startled expressions. "So someone forced you to become a wolf… a curse, I should think. It would explain the dark magic I sense. All right, little one: Were you human before?"

This one made me hesitate. I nodded, then shook my head. The Elven Lady frowned, but Aragorn latched onto it. "Half-human?" he guessed, and I nodded.

"Half-Elven?" asked Legolas. I nodded again, starting to smile. Now, at least they would know. The Elf looked at me, his expression strangely pitying. My smile faded – I didn't want his pity, nor anyone else's. Pity would not change my situation.

"Oh, Lady…" whispered Aragorn. "We did not know. We guessed you were not an ordinary wolf, but the idea of a curse never once occurred to us…"

Why should it? Looking at him, I shrugged my shoulders slightly. It wasn't their fault or anything…

The Lady of Light leaned forward, slender Elven fingers finding their way to the Stone of Courage. I held my breath, but it did nothing more than glow gently as she touched it. She closed her eyes for a moment, frowning, and then murmured, "Ah."

Legolas and Aragorn waited expectantly. I tilted my head at her.

"Where did you get these? As far as I remember, these have not been seen in Arda since I was an elfling," she said, looking at me strangely. "They were a gift of powerful weapons to all who fought the Enemy long ago. Later, they disappeared into the safekeeping of a friend of mine, but she has not been heard of since."

That wasn't a 'yes' or 'no' question! I frowned. Anyway, I didn't know myself. The Voice had never revealed her name or identity to me, and I couldn't tell them how I got the Stones by shaking or nodding my head.

"Weapons?" Legolas looked dubiously at the Stones.

"Yes." Galadriel looked indulgently at the younger Elf. "Do you not know what they stand for? But no, I see that Lady could not have told you even if she had wanted to. These three here are part of Nine Stones, each representing a different trait, each with their own strength-giving powers. Eight were taken into the safe-keeping of a Nature Spirit whom I once knew. These three that Lady has here are the Stones of Courage, Kindness and Friendship." She showed each stone to the Ranger and the Elf as she named them, and I felt a surge of respect that she knew each of them so well.

Aragorn nodded slowly. "I've seen this one glow orange whenever danger came upon us," he said, pointing to the Stone of Courage.

It gives me courage, I wanted to say, but couldn't.

"Then this one glowed lavender in Balin's tomb," agreed Legolas, pointing to the Stone of Kindness. "And this one – I have not truly seen it in action yet, it is new."

The Lady smiled her mysterious smile. "You will yet, Legolas Thranduilion, for as long as Lady travels with you. Perhaps you have already seen it, yet have not realized so."

The Ranger glanced at Galadriel. "My Lady – you said eight were taken into safe-keeping, but that there are nine of these stones. What happened to the final Stone?"

Galadriel calmly reached up and undid a cord from around her neck, revealing a pendant which hung as a smooth gray stone from the black cord. "This one, belonged to a warrior of Lorien from long ago. His name was Saeduil Caellion, and before his death, he gave it to me to keep safe. Somehow, he foresaw his own end… I hoped he would return to reclaim it, but he never did." She bowed her head.

I felt as if I had just been gut-smacked. Galadriel's next few words seemed to come from somewhere far away.

"Saeduil was the chosen Bearer for the Stone of Reliability, for that indeed was the trait that was most powerful in him. He was very responsible, a fine Elf and loyal warrior, and we knew we could always depend on him."

Saeduil. Saeduil Caellion. She was talking about my father!

My father! It was impossible!

Aragorn seemed to notice that I had stiffened, my eyes wide and stunned and unfocused. He placed a gentle hand on my head, stroking and rubbing.

"Lady? What is it?"

Something probed me, touching the back of my mind. The wolf mentally snapped at it, reacting instinctively, but I pushed down on the wolf's instincts and allowed the intrusion, feeling somehow that this was important.

It was.

Galadriel's eyes widened.

"No. You, child? You? Saeduil was _your_ father?"

I looked at her, and it didn't seem to matter whether I wanted to laugh or cry at that moment. The wolf could do neither, and I longed to do both at the same time. The Lady did a surprising thing. Rising from her seat, she swept over to me, knelt beside me, and gathered me into her arms for a hug.

"Peace, little one," she whispered, and I sighed, absorbing her gentle kindness. And for a moment, I felt some of that peace that she tried so hard to give to me seeping into me, and I let it envelop and comfort my heart.

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Did the discussion change anything? Did it make my life any easier? Well, yes and no. Aragorn and Legolas related what had happened to the others – with my permission, that is – and the only things that changed was that now, they knew. They knew I was no true wolf, but the result of a curse placed upon me. They knew the Stones I carried were important, weapons that helped me when I needed them. They knew I had once been half-Elven, and that my father had once been a warrior of the Elven realm of Lothlorien.

Our friendship remained. They viewed me differently for a few days after, but I did not change myself to suit their new view of me, and I believe they realized that I was still the same Lady they had come to know. I was no animal, but a "real lady", as Sam had once said. Still, I was still their friend, and after those few days, our bond seemed to 'click' back into place, and seemed to me to be stronger than it had been before.

Perhaps the most major change was in how Boromir and I finally became friends – but that did not happen solely because of what my "discussion" revealed (though it was hard to call it that when I had spoken no words throughout the whole thing), but because of a rather interesting night adventure where I tested out my healing limbs and wandered off on my own – and unexpectedly got lost. Boromir found me, and though we said nothing to each other as he guided me back to the sleeping alcove, the next morning there was a difference in the way we viewed each other somehow. It was subtle, a very slight difference, but it was there, and I felt that he saw me as a friend as much as I did him.

We stayed two more weeks in Lorien, making our total time spent there an exact month, and then we spent one more day preparing to leave the Golden Woods. My bandages had come off during the third week, and now on this final day before we left, Aragorn pronounced me fully healed, much to my great satisfaction and delight. I could run again! To a wolf, there is nothing worse than not being able to run. We have the speed and endurance to run for miles and miles and never tire, and I took myself for a long race through the woods, racing a few of the elflings – Galadriel's approval and support had won over their parents' initial mistrust – and appeasing my restless inner wolf by actually winning said races.

I was terribly stiff the next morning, but judged that it had been worth it.

I did, however, decline the suggested rematch as politely as I could.

We gathered by the riverbank. The Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn were there to meet us, with several female Elves to help us prepare for our departure. I took several deep breaths to inhale the scent of the Golden Wood, and looked wistfully around at the silvery _mallorn_ trees for the final time. I did not suppose I would ever see them again, and I wanted to remember them.

Celeborn smiled at us as we stood in a row, facing him and his wife. At a signal, eight Elven assistants stepped forward to clothe my friends in beautiful gray-green cloaks that were clearly of Elven make.

"Never before have we clad strangers in the garb of our own people," Celeborn pronounced gravely. "May these cloaks help shield you from unfriendly eyes."

I did not receive a cloak, but I did get a beautifully crafted brown leather collar with the same leaf-patterned brooch that the others had. A female Elf secured it around my neck, and neatly transferred the stones from my chain to special links that were set in the collar for the very purpose of holding them. Further to my surprise, the Lady herself approached me after that, and gently placed the Stone of Reliability – my father's Stone – around my neck as well.

"This belongs to you now," she murmured. "I believe your father would have wanted you to have this. When I searched your memories, I realized that you had never met him, nor did he know you existed. But I knew Saeduil. Had he lived and known of you, his only daughter by the woman he loved so much, this would have been yours long ago. May you bear it as well as he did." She stepped back, smiling her radiant smile, and I touched a reverent, trembling paw to the new Stone. There was a flash of white light as the Stone responded, and the image of a strong cross-shaped symbol appeared in my mind.

Turning, I nodded my thanks to the Lady, bowing slightly in deep gratitude and respect. This was the first and only thing I had ever owned that had once belonged to my father. There were no words to describe how I felt. The joy, the sadness, the loneliness. I had missed having him in my life. My mother had done her best, but she had never been able to replace him in my life – and no one could have expected her to, really. I didn't blame her…but I wished I had known him. I wished he had known me. Emotions swirling inside me like the river in stormy weather, I lifted my gaze to the sky and thought: _'If you're watching this, Father…" _

I didn't know what to say. There were so many things I could have promised, but I didn't know which one to promise first. To do my best? To make him proud? To honor his memory, and my mother's? Or all of those combined? I didn't know… so I stopped there, and let the promise of a promise stay in my head and heart.

"Lady." A gentle touch on my neck had me turning to face the Prince of Mirkwood. "It's almost time to go," Legolas told me softly, nodding to where most of the Fellowship had already gathered by the river. He paused, noting my new stone. "Galadriel," he guessed. "She gave that to you?"

I nodded. He smiled. "She has given each of us gifts. Frodo got the light of Earendil, our most beloved star. Sam received a length of Elven rope, made of _hithlain_. I got this bow of the Galadhrim. Merry and Pippin both received daggers of the Noldorin, and Aragorn received a larger one from Lord Celeborn, in addition to the gift he already bears." He looked meaningfully at me, though I didn't know what he meant. He seemed to realize this, and clearing his throat, he continued, "Gimli… I don't know what the Dwarf got, actually." He chuckled dryly. "I can always find out, I suppose."

I smiled at him, and his gaze gentled further. He hesitated, then said, "Listen, Lady. I just want to say – consider me your friend. You were once half-Elven, so we are like kin, are we not?"

I nodded, unsure where he was going with this.

"I just want you to know: if ever you need to talk – maybe after, if we ever find a way to break your curse – then, well, I'm here, and my door will always be open. That's a promise." He glanced away, as if embarrassed that he was even making this offer. I nudged him with my nose. It was nice of him, and his offer touched me deep in the heart. He met my gaze, and we smiled at each other. The Stone of Friendship was starting to glow, a small blue light in the shadow of the trees. He glanced at it, and smiled a bit more before leading me down to where Gimli was waiting to get into a boat. Aragorn was already in one with a nervous Sam and patient Frodo, and Merry and Pippin had joined Boromir in another. So it was to be Legolas, Gimli and me.

Galadriel nodded to me as I climbed in, and Legolas pushed off from the shore. Gimli was in the middle, and the Elf was in back as rower. "_Namarie,_" she said, with a quiet smile. "We will not meet again, Stonebearer."

I nodded back, waving with a paw to her and the Elves, and then, we were off.

"Ach," Gimli rumbled, a trace of sorrow in his voice as we followed Aragorn's boat down the river. "I have taken my worst wound at this parting, having looked my last upon that which is fairest. Henceforth, I will call nothing fair unless it be her gift to me."

Legolas pushed gently with his oar. "What was her gift?" I didn't have to turn to hear the smile in the Elf's voice.

Gimli sighed. When I glanced back, the Dwarf looked surprisingly wistful. "I asked her for one hair from her golden head," he said. "She gave me _three_."

Legolas smiled.

Looking beyond the Elf to the now-distant shores of Lorien, my eyes caught what was surely a trick of the sunlight on the water. For, standing on the shore, I could have sworn for the briefest of moments that I saw the silhouettes of a tall Elf and a woman holding each other lovingly and waving to me. And then the boat rocked slightly, and when I looked up again, they were gone.

And I remembered my promise.

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"_If you were with me now,  
__I'd find myself in you,  
__If you were with me now…  
__You're the only one who knew,  
__All the things we planned to do…_

_I want to live my life,  
__The way you said I would,  
__With courage as my light,  
__Fighting for what's right  
__Like you made me believe I could…_

_And I will fly on my father's wings,  
__To places I have never been,  
__There is so much I've never seen,  
__And I can feel his heartbeat still,  
__And I will do great things –  
__On my father's wings…_

…_Someday, with his spirit to guide me  
__And his memory beside me  
__I will be free…_

_To fly on my father's wings,  
__To places I have never been,  
__There is so much I've never seen,  
__And I can feel his heartbeat still,  
__And I will do great things –  
__On my father's wings."_

_- The Corrs, "On My Father's Wings" (Quest for Camelot soundtrack)_

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In case anyone is curious, I left out the second stanza of the song because it did not fit Lady and her situation. It goes:

_"This world I'll never see,  
My dreams that just won't be,  
This horse's stride, with one day's ride  
Will have covered more distance than me..."_

It's a beautiful song, and if I weren't using it for Lady I would use it for Eowyn, because I feel it fits her very well. I think there used to be a music video on Eowyn with this song on YouTube, but it has been taken down, I think.

Well, feedback, please! Feed the author!

RK9.


	13. Darkness and Suspicion

**Disclaimer: **No, it still belongs to Mr Tolkien. Or is that Professor? Well, yeah. It's still his, except for Lady and the Stones.

**Author's notes:** Sorry everyone! The chapters were being betaed, so it took me a while to get back - thanks to FairOphelia for her beta work! There - the final three chapters are here! LOL, let me explain. I'm following the format of the book, which is one book, but split into three. Likewise, I am writing three stories, in one fic. Wolfheart is the first one, and it's now finished, and Wolflight shall be the next part, as The Two Towers to The Fellowship of the Ring. (nods)

Kudos to all who reviewed, and thanks!

**Memory bleeds** - Yeah, Galadriel isn't the Voice. I did say she wouldn't be. :) I only recently decided that the Voice was a Nature Spirit - there you go, mystery solved! ;)

**Mish** - Well, I dunno. I hope they're good. This chapter didn't feel so good to me, but FairOphelia says she loved it and the following two so I'll leave them to your judgement. Let me know what you think, eh?

**JenCarpeDiem** - Thanks! I'm glad the flow is good... recently I've been really itching to write, and the words just flow almost faster than I can type them. I hope you enjoy these next few chapters.

**Kaisaan** - Yeah, I know - reviewing from my school computer can be a dodgy process as well, which is so annoying... I dunno, I know I haven't mentioned it, because if you knew where the Stones are from you could look them up and there would be no more surprise, but you seem to have guessed what inspired them? Or didn't you? Oh well... I must have imagined that part of your review. My bad. Well, keep enjoying the story!

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**Chapter 12 **

We traveled by river for a little more than a week. Thankfully, none of the hobbits were terribly sea – um, _river-_sick – though the wolf did not look fondly on this leg of our journey at all. I spent most of my time hunkered down in the little Elven boat in front of Gimli, wishing we could be on land again. We stopped every night and set up camp, but in the mornings we were off again at first light.

Celeborn had warned Aragorn that Orcs now held the eastern shore of the Anduin, but that there was no less danger on the western bank. The Elves had spotted strange creatures bearing the mark of the White Hand near the Lorien borders. We stopped each night on the western side, but always a guard was set while the others slept, and nothing was unpacked save absolute necessities so that we would be ready to leave at a moment's notice, and weapons were kept literally in hand in case of a sudden attack.

It was during one of those stops that I saw him – the same pair of eyes that I had seen in the darkness of Moria. To be fair, Boromir saw him first, as he was on watch, but the wolf did not miss the soft splashes and the strange scent that I had smelled before in the mines, when Gandalf had been on watch.

I moved closer to the river, my paws picking up mud from the water's edge. The sand itched where it crept into the crevices between my toes, but I ignored it, my gaze fixed on the water. There was what appeared to be a floating log in the middle of the water, carried along by the current, and I saw a vaguely humanoid shadow with large, glowing eyes clutching onto it. If I wasn't mistaken, Gandalf had called this creature…

"Gollum." Aragorn's voice came from behind, aptly completing my thoughts as he joined Boromir and I by the bank. The Ranger too, was watching the water. "He has tracked us since Moria."

Boromir's head twisted from Gollum to Aragorn to Gollum again.

"I had hoped we would lose him on the river," the Ranger went on. "But he's too clever a waterman."

"And if he alerts the enemy to our whereabouts it will make the crossing even more dangerous," Boromir said, eyes narrowing with worry and suspicion. He got off the rock he had been standing on, going back to where Aragorn was.

"Minas Tirith is the safer road," he urged, sounding strangely pleading. "You know it. From there we can regroup, strike out for Mordor from a place of strength."

I turned my gaze. The log had hit the eastern bank, and the shadow with its unblinking eyes had slid almost noiselessly from the water and disappeared from even the reach of my senses. I was puzzled though, even with Gollum gone, something inside me was still sensing danger…

Aragorn's gaze was steady as he faced Boromir. "There is no strength in Gondor that can avail us."

The Stone of Friendship was beginning to burn warningly at my throat, and I frowned. I still did not understand...

Boromir's face had suddenly turned dark and stormy. He stepped forward suddenly, facing the Ranger. "You were quick enough to trust the Elves. Have you so little faith in your own people? Yes, there is weakness. There is frailty. But there is courage also, and honor to be found in Men. But you will not see that." Aragorn turned away. The Gondorian moved forward and caught hold of his arm, swinging him around. "You are afraid! All your life, you have hidden in the shadows!" His voice was rising, almost a shout now.

I stared at them, scared, and wished for Legolas or even Gimli to break them up. But the Dwarf was asleep on the far side of camp, and the Elf had gone to collect wood for our small fire, necessary to keep us warm. The hobbits were too small to interfere in a fight between two Men, but I didn't think they would anyway.

From where he was sitting next to a sleeping Sam, Frodo looked up, towards where we were. I saw pain on his face. The hobbit was terribly pale, and he seemed to be silently suffering. Sam was deeply asleep, or he would have been with Frodo at once, concerned for his friend's welfare.

So, with the situation such as it was, I now had to make a choice. Either I interfered and broke up the fight between my friends before something bad happened, or I went to Frodo and comforted the little hobbit.

"You're scared of who you are, of what you are!" Boromir went on, fierce and unrelenting in his accusations. I didn't even know where this sudden anger was coming from, where the source of this flow of words stemmed from, and I suspected he would regret all this later.

Frodo whimpered, hugging himself, bent over double with his arms around his knees.

Aragorn would have to take care of himself. Unfreezing myself, I bounded over to where the Ringbearer was, nuzzling my nose into his shoulder and whining softly and comfortingly.

Frodo latched onto me and hugged me quietly, using me to shield himself from the quarrel between the Ranger and the Man of Gondor. The lavender light of Kindness rose from my collar where the Stone was, flowing gently through and over the hobbit. I licked Frodo's cheek gently, finding it cold and clammy against my tongue. Frodo was babbling something into my fur, repeating the same three words over and over again, almost desperately, though I did not know why.

"He's not himself. He's not himself. He's not himself…"

Aragorn pulled back from Boromir, and there was a determined glint in his eyes and a hardness in his expression that I had not seen before. Coolly, he looked Boromir in the face and stated, "I will not lead the Ring within a hundred miles of your city."

Boromir stared at him, then released his grip on Aragorn's arm and stumbled back, away from him.

I shuddered, focusing again on Frodo. But there was darkness growing in the back of my mind again, and I could hear the whispers of a strange voice getting louder, louder –

I pulled away from Frodo. Of course.

The Ring.

The wolf sensed it, too, and what worried me was not that I was starting to feel the shadow-tug of the Ring in my mind and heart – though yes, that was frightening enough in itself. Was I weak in some way? The others did not seem affected; they did not seem to sense the pull of evil from the innocent-looking thing which hung from a simple chain around Frodo's neck. But I could feel it, was starting to recognize that it was calling to me in a disturbing way.

And what was truly terrifying – the wolf wanted me to answer. I did not want to, I was trying to resist it – but the wolf was reacting like a dog that has heard its master's call.

Frodo followed my gaze to the dangerous piece of jewelry at his throat. Pulling back from me as though my fur had become scorching fire, I saw suspicion clouding his blue gaze as he tucked the Ring into his shirt, hiding it from my view. I was actually relieved, released instantly from whatever spell the thing had woven on me, on the wolf. The call of the Ring did not stop, not completely, but it had softened enough for me to pull away, pushing down on the wolf's desire to respond to it.

"Lady? Frodo? Are you both all right? You should be sleeping." Aragorn approached us, and Frodo sent a cautious look at the Ranger, before nodding slowly and lying down on his back. I started to lie down as well, but the hobbit stiffened when I went near him. He had seen it, the wolf's reaction. But he had misunderstood – he thought it was me that wanted the Ring. He didn't understand – it was the wolf, not me! – but it didn't matter. I was hurt, frightened – had I lost his trust?

Did I maybe _deserve_ to lose his trust?

Backing away, I hid my turmoil from Aragorn in a quickly forced-up smile and stumbled away to the other side of camp where Legolas had returned and was settling down near Aragorn's sleeping roll. He smiled when he saw me, patting the Ranger's roll in an obvious invitation for me to sleep by his side. I smiled back, and made myself comfortable, circling in place on the roll several times before lying down with a satisfied sigh. Legolas draped a blanket over me, though I did not truly need one, for I already had my own natural coat of fur to keep me warm. It was one of the things I would actually miss when – if – the curse was broken.

But perhaps it was just as well, because although my body was hot, my thoughts were more than enough to make my blood run cold with fear. I tossed and turned all night, plagued by nightmares. The Stones would not glow for me – had the Ring destroyed their power, or had I lost them because of the darkness I'd seen inside me, brought up by the unexpected exposure to the call of the Ring?

I must have whimpered in my sleep, because I felt Legolas' hand moving comfortingly over my back. A few moments later, an Elven voice began to sing softly in Elvish, and though I did not know the words, it seemed as though there was magic in that Elven song, and I felt the worry and anxiety and fear start to fall away. Though I did not understand, one thing at least clicked in my mind. In my fear of the rising darkness, I had forgotten to let the light within me shine. Darkness never endures with the presence of light – like the light of Friendship that Legolas gave to me in the form of a simple Elven lullaby. My friend chased away the darkness for me, and I was rocked to sleep on the wings of his melodious voice.

Peace came at last, and my last memory before I truly fell asleep was of thanking Legolas with a nudge to his hand, and the gentle refrain of the song fading into the night.

And around my neck, the reassuring blue glow of the Stone of Friendship now shone brightly, a promise that it would always be there to keep the darkness at bay.

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All in all, it took us nine days before we finally reached a place that Aragorn called Amon Hen, near the Falls of Rauros. We beached the boats and set up camp. There was a tension in the air somehow, and I could tell somehow – something was going to happen. This was the calm before the storm, the deception of a soft voice before a father's angry lecture. The wolf was surprisingly quiet, and more fool me, I assumed that I was in total control of my body, such as it was.

I could see that Boromir looked distracted. He disappeared into the woods after a while, muttering something about finding wood for a fire. Merry shrugged and followed him, apparently wanting to help, while Pippin began munching happily on some of the _lembas_ bread that the Elves had given us – so much for one small bite being enough to fill the stomach of a grown Man. Why, Pippin managed about four before burping and slowing down – note: _slowing down_.

Frodo stayed with Sam. He had been refusing to make eye contact with me for some time now, and when I approached him, he would leave. It hurt, knowing that he no longer trusted me, that he was suspicious and wary of who I was. He did not understand…but this only made me all the more determined to prove myself to him. I needed to show him that I could be trusted, that he could depend on me: in essence, that I was reliable.

And if I managed to make my father's Stone glow, then I would know for sure that I could be counted upon to stand against the darkness, no matter where it came from – even if it came from within myself.

After all, I had not earned my father's Stone, as I had with the others. I did not know if I deserved it. My father had been reliable. Was I my father's daughter?

It bothered me that I did not know. It scared me, too. What if I couldn't be trusted? What if I let the wolf win? What if -?

Pushing away my fears fiercely, I padded over to where Aragorn was telling the others what our next course was.

"We cross the lake at nightfall," Aragorn was saying. "Hide the boats and continue on foot. We approach Mordor from the north."

Gimli, who had up till then been peacefully smoking his pipe, now removed the smoking stick from his mouth. "Oh yes?" he asked, skeptically. "It's just a simple matter of finding our way through Emyn Muil? An impassable labyrinth of razor sharp rocks! And after that, it gets even better!"

Pippin's head shot up. The hobbit looked alarmed. I suspect my own expression mirrored his somewhat as I too, stared at the Dwarf nervously.

"Festering, stinking marshlands, as far as the eye can see!" Gimli was just getting warmed up. Luckily, Aragorn knew how to counter this.

"That is our road," he stated calmly, with the hint of a smile brushing his lips, though he hid it well. "I suggest you take some rest and recover your strength, Master Dwarf."

Gimli choked, going purple in the face. "Recover my -" h spluttered, unable to even repeat the sentence. "Pah!" He glared at Aragorn, whose eyes were smiling.

He looked up as Legolas moved closer to him. "We should leave now," the Elf murmured, looking and sounding slightly tense.

"No. Orcs patrol the eastern shore," Aragorn negated this idea. "We must wait for cover of darkness."

"It is not the eastern shore that worries me," said Legolas. "A shadow and a threat has been growing in my mind. Something draws near – I can feel it!"

His Elf eyes wandered restlessly over the thick, dark woods on the opposite shore. I could only nod to myself – so he felt it too. The wolf wasn't the only one who knew something was going to happen. Thank the Valar for Legolas' Elven senses.

Hobbit scent and footfalls approached from the woods, and Merry appeared from the trees. The hobbit dumped his load of twigs and kindling onto the ground near Pippin, and glanced around. A frown marred his little face, and he looked over at us.

"Where's Frodo?"

The half-dozing Sam started and jerked his head to the side, but it was true – the hobbit in question was nowhere to be seen. Aragorn and Legolas both scanned the camp, but even Elf eyes could not see what was no longer there.

The Ranger started for the trees, but I stepped forward abruptly to get his attention, giving him a look. Making a great show of it so he would not misunderstand, I bent my head to the ground and sniffed. Frodo's scent hit my nostrils at once, but I looked up at Aragorn first, somehow feeling I had to get his permission before I went ahead and tracked the hobbit, no matter how worried I was becoming.

Yes, I was worried. Because even if he didn't trust me, for my part – he was my friend.

The Ranger nodded. "Go ahead, Lady. I'll come with you – Legolas – you stay here with Gimli and the hobbits in case he comes back."

"Fat chance," I heard Merry mutter, in an undertone that Ranger ears would not catch. "He's our cousin!"

"Lady, come!" And Aragorn sprang away through the trees, leaving me to break into a loping run and follow him.

Wait a minute. Wasn't I supposed to be leading _him_?

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RK9.


	14. Fight The Shadow

**Disclaimer: **I'm wishing, I'm wishing...but wishes on a star just don't come true...

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_"Do not go gently into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light." – Dylan Thomas_

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**Chapter 13**

It took me mere moments to catch up to Aragorn, and then a few moments more to overtake him completely. Urgency was pounding in me as rapidly as my heartbeat, as hard as my paws on the forest floor. The path Frodo had taken was marked out clearly to my wolf nose; he might as well have left a big sign telling me where he was going – which way, how fast, and where he had stopped and lingered here and there along the way. As I ran, I could not help but wonder as to the reasons that had driven him to leave the group, to move away from those who had sworn to follow and protect him, and seek solitude by himself in the dense world of trees. The only reasons I could think of didn't particularly speak well of his state of mind, so after a while I stopped thinking and focused on the path before my nose.

I could no longer hear the Ranger behind me, but I knew he would find me. I hadn't been hiding my tracks; he could easily follow where I had gone. Something was calling me, but it wasn't the sinister call of the Ring. I would have known if it was, and turned around and gone the other way. No, it was a deep-set instinct, a sort of naturally built-in sense that said that something was terribly wrong.

And then, finally, my pricked ears caught it. The sound of voices. First Frodo's, then Boromir's.

I should have been relieved to have found them, but the sense of approaching danger only seemed to grow in intensity. Around my neck, the Stone of Friendship was emitting a weak glow, but it sputtered out like a flame fed by wet wood. Something was stopping it from shining, and this realization made my fear grow.

A massive stone head lay on the ground before me, covered in moss and lichen and providing a place for creepers to climb as they grew. The likeness of some long-forgotten king was still detailed and visible on the weather-worn stone, but I had no time for this neglected, long-dead monarch. I surged past, my paws flying over the dirt, and skidded to a halt in a clearing. There stood the missing hobbit, and Boromir, who was holding an armful of firewood. This close, I could not miss their words to each other, or the tension in Frodo's voice as he spoke, apparently replying to something the Man of Gondor had said.

"I know what you would say. It would seem like wisdom but for the warning in my heart."

Boromir's voice was like that of a stranger's as he replied. "Warning? Against what? We're all afraid, Frodo. But to let that fear drive us to destroy what hope we have…don't you see, that is madness?"

_He is not himself. _Frodo's words sounded in my mind, as though from far away.

"There is no other way!" It was one of the few times I had ever heard Frodo shout. Boromir might have missed it, but I could hear the slight edge of fear in his voice, and could smell its taint in the air. Frodo was hiding it well…but for all he knew, he was alone with Boromir in the woods, and the Man was not himself.

The Ring.

"I ask only for the strength to defend my people!" The Man of Gondor sounded as though he would cry, but then his tone changed again, turning half-pleading, half-persuasive. "If you would but lend me the Ring…"

"No." Frodo took a step back, stumbling a little on the uneven ground.

"Why do you recoil? I am no thief."

"You are not yourself." Frodo stared defiantly up at him.

Looking back, that was the moment when the world came crashing down. I could see the change in Boromir's expression, and the last traces of the friend I had come to know in the Fellowship disappeared as the Ring took him over completely.

"What chance do you think you have? They will find you! They will take the Ring and you will beg for death before the end!"

_Aragorn, where are you?_ I twisted my head, but my senses told me the Ranger was nowhere nearby. Had he lost my trail?

Frodo sensed the danger just as much as I did. He started to walk away from Boromir, moving quickly, yet not _too_ quickly, like a nervous Man trying to escape a dangerous animal that he has just stumbled upon. The animal had not yet attacked, but one would try to get as far as possible before it decided to.

"You fool!" Boromir spun, and Frodo began to run. The Man chased him, and startled into action, I chased the Man.

I might not have sworn to protect Frodo, but I would be damned if I let anything happen to my friend.

"It is not yours, save by unhappy chance! It could have been mine! It should be mine! Give it to me!" He tackled the hobbit to the ground, and I leapt, flying through the air and landing squarely on the Man's back. Gripping Boromir's Elven cloak in my teeth, I tugged, trying to pull him off Frodo. He retaliated, turning on me and swinging out with his arm. I was thrown, caught by a lucky hit from his flailing limbs, and I hit the ground in a cloud of dust and fallen leaves. Frodo used this opportunity to scramble free, and the next thing I knew, he had disappeared.

I'd landed on a rock, and though nothing felt broken, my chest and belly felt painful and tight. I suspected it would be one big bruise by the next morning, but my attention had to be elsewhere – on Boromir. The Man was gazing wildly around, ignoring me and searching for the hobbit.

Where _had _Frodo gone? The wolf knew he was still here – I could scent him, could hear little whispering footfalls and movement. I just could not _see_ him.

"I see your mind. You will take the Ring to Sauron! You will betray us! You'll go to your death and the death of us all! Curse you! Curse you! And all the halflings!" Boromir was screaming now, turning wildly as he scanned the clearing. Unlike me, he could not smell or hear the hobbit – he was trying to bait him, trying to anger or scare Frodo into responding and revealing his location. But as I watched, something tripped him, and he tumbled to the ground.

Warily, I approached him, but when he looked up, I relaxed. For there was the face of my friend once again, though now filled with guilt, remorse, and horror.

"What have I done?" he asked me, his eyes slightly wild. The anguish in his tone seared straight to my heart. "What have I done? Frodo! Frodo, I'm sorry!"

I bent my head to nudge him gently, helping him to his feet.

And then, without warning, the wolf took over.

It jerked my head in the direction I'd last heard Frodo running away in, and the wolf took advantage of my confusion to start running in that direction, following the hobbit. I couldn't stop it! Terror filled me – the wolf was in control.

Was it the Ring? What had happened?

The world turned gray around me, and the sound of hissing shadow and flame was all around me. The wolf, like most animals, was born with the ability to see into the spirit world, and I had no doubt that this was where I was now. This was the wraith-world, the world that Frodo entered when he put on the Ring. The wolf was looking for its master, and all my struggles to regain control were completely useless.

But then, I saw him. Frodo was climbing what looked to be a set a stairs, running up them on little hobbit feet, rushing to hide behind a giant stone seat with two stone eagles on top. He hunkered down, breathing hard and quickly, and the wolf scented his fear.

The wolf raised its - no, _my_ head, and let out a howl of triumph. It had found its prey. If I didn't do something now, it would attack Frodo… or worse.

In the distance, I saw a dark tower looming, getting taller and bigger and closer, and at the top was a giant, fiery eye. The wolf's heart sang: this was her master, the one she wanted to serve. Her kind had served him and the one before him since the First Age; this was what all wolves were born to do. She would start by killing Frodo and bringing her master his greatest Treasure. Rip out his throat, tear the Ring from his neck! He was merely a hobbit, no match for the wolf…

NOOOOOOO!

I wrenched mentally at myself, and to my surprise, my body responded. I tumbled backwards, rolling head over tail down the steps, ending up on the ground by a very familiar looking shoe. Bright white light erupted around me, followed slowly by the newly familiar blue glow of Friendship, and dazed, I looked up into Aragorn's face. The world had righted itself during my fall – I was no longer walking in the wraith-like shadow world. The wolf was fighting me, fighting hard to regain the control it had been enjoying – _oh, shut up! _

Pushing down firmly on the wolf, I fought hard to stay still as the Ranger bent and helped me back onto my paws. I was ashamed and frightened and relieved all at once – I had fought the wolf, and I was myself again!

Wasn't I?

"Lady?" Aragorn looked worriedly at me. I turned away, unable to meet his intense gray gaze. He sighed and looked away, and then, he saw the one he had been searching for all this while. "Frodo!" I turned back, and yes, he was visible again – he must have removed the Ring.

Frodo jerked at Aragorn's call, startled and shaken. "It has taken Boromir!"

"Where is the Ring?" Aragorn started for Frodo, but the hobbit backed away. His encounter with Boromir had clearly not put Men in a good light in his eyes.

"Stay away!" he cried, running away behind a pillar. Aragorn, puzzled and bewildered, followed.

"Frodo!" He stopped, spread his hands wide in a non-threatening gesture. "I swore to protect you!" he reminded the hobbit. Hesitantly, I moved to the Ranger's side. Instinct told me I belonged here, though I did not yet understand why.

"Can you protect me from yourself?" Frodo challenged him. He sent me a wary look. "And you, Lady? You were tempted the other night, I know you were. Do you want it? Would you destroy it? Or would you take it for yourself?"

I shuddered. The wolf in me was more than willing to take the Ring from him, but the very idea of betraying my friend sickened me.

Then, and only then, as I looked down, did I realize that all this while, white light had been shining steadily from the practical gray Stone of Reliability. The wolf's struggles were slowing, ceasing, as though something was sapping its strength. And with the wolf weakened, I felt strength returning to myself.

Suddenly emboldened, I lifted my head and met Frodo's gaze with a steady one of my own.

_Frodo, my friend, my traveling companion and brother in this fight against evil – _you can trust me_. I would die before I hurt you, I would kill myself before I let the Enemy use me against you. I did not swear to protect you like Aragorn and the others did, but the oath of Friendship that binds me to you will ensure that I will never betray you. Friendship is the strength that helps me stand strong against the darkness and its temptations. I fell before, yes, but never again. Trust me, friend. Know that I will not betray or fail you. _

I thought all this in my head, speaking to Frodo in my mind since I could not tell him all this, but I think somehow it translated itself into my expression, because Frodo's wariness and suspicion faded and blew away like a leaf in the wind. Aragorn stepped forward, glancing at me from time to time. Mirrored in his gaze, I realized that the expression in my eyes looked familiar, like that of a steadfast, practical hobbit whom we all knew and loved.

Aragorn himself was eyeing the Ring now, but he merely stepped forward, knelt before Frodo, and gently closed the hobbit's hand over the treacherous piece of metal.

"I would have gone with you to the end," he said softly, looking at the hobbit. "To the very fires of Mordor."

"I know." Frodo gave him a sad smile, and within it I sensed a farewell. "Look after the others. Especially Sam. He will not understand."

My head whipped around. Subdued, the wolf now sensed danger. Aragorn stood suddenly, and Frodo withdrew Sting to see the warning blue glow.

Orcs.

Aragorn drew his own sword, and nodded to Frodo. "Go, Frodo. Run. Run! Lady – you go with him!"

I refused. The orange glow of Courage was starting to cover me now, responding to the fast-approaching threat. Frodo gave me a sudden hug.

"I'm sorry, Lady," he whispered. "No matter what happens… if I ever see you again – I'm glad to have met you and known you. Fare well, Lady. Take care of our friends."

And with that, the hobbit turned and ran.

Aragorn and I met each other's gaze, and together we turned to meet our enemies face on.

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The odds weren't great. An entire troop of maybe fifty Uruk-Hai were running towards us, weapons drawn for battle. Fur bristling, I bared my fangs and snarled. Let them come!

Aragorn touched his sword to his forehead, seeming to bless it, or maybe he was accepting a challenge of some sort. A half-smile graced his face, and before I knew what he was doing, that crazy Ranger leapt from the stone seat and straight into the mass of Uruk-Hai that was surging towards us. Now as they approached, I was beginning to think that there were definitely more than fifty.

"_Elendil!_" Aragorn yelled, and I too charged and leapt down, into the fray.

It was madness. A lone wolf and a Man against so many. But somehow, we held our own. Aragorn's sword arm never stopped moving, and Uruk-Hai fell where he moved. I attacked with the only weapons I had: my claws and fangs, and of course, the light of Courage that burned within me. I think that made me twice as dangerous, really, both to my opponents and myself, because my courage made me know no fear.

"Rragh!" I snarled, leaping up and sinking my fangs into the throat of a huge Uruk, bringing him down in a haze of blood and adrenaline. His dead carcass had barely hit the ground before I had spun and attacked another, this time sinking fangs deep into a nearby pillar-like leg. The foul taste of Uruk-Hai blood filled my mouth, and I spat it out, dodged a swinging sword and leapt back, renewing my attack.

Caught in battle-fury, I barely noticed when help arrived. Legolas and Gimli came racing up, each with their own battle cries. Legolas' arrows were soon flying, and Gimli's throwing axes sang as they were hurled through the air to sink deep into Uruk-Hai flesh. Another axe was gripped between his hands, and the Dwarf was busily hewing down our enemies with relish and great vigor for one his size.

And then, looking around, I saw Sam come crashing into the clearing, staring in surprised horror at the scene of battle. The battle-lust dissipated, and I gasped. Sam! He had been brave in the mines, had held his own in battle, but here the space was not so enclosed and there were far too many. I fought my way over to him, knowing that the warriors could take care of themselves.

"Lady! Where's Mr Frodo?"

I jerked my head at the little hobbit. Something drove me to lead him towards the boats. When I thought of where would be safe for him to wait out the battle, something answered with an image of the river, where we had been setting up camp earlier. Not questioning it, I guided Sam towards the winding band of water, and stopped where the forest ended. There, just pushing off in one of the boats, was a pale but determined Frodo.

"Mr Frodo! No! Mr Frodo!" Sam broke into a run, racing for the water's edge.

"No, Sam," Frodo's voice was firm, carrying back over the water as he kept paddling.

Sam, intent on following his master, plunged into the river. I started – what was he doing?

"Sam!" Frodo had heard the splashes, and he turned in alarm. "Go back, Sam! I'm going to Mordor alone."

"Of course you are, and I'm coming with you!" Sam called back, forcing his way doggedly through the water.

I debated whether or not to interfere.

"You can't swim! Sam!" Frodo stopped paddling near the middle of the river, and stared in alarm. "Sam!"

The stout-hearted little hobbit struggled forward, gave a little cry, and disappeared under the water.

Okay. That did it. I rushed forward, black Orc blood staining my fur and dripping into my eye, and plunged into the cold water. I couldn't find the hobbit at first – couldn't smell or see in the water, and I couldn't hear him either. Then my paddling paws felt something below me, and Sam's hand flailed wildly to grab at my collar. Dunking my head underwater, I bit blindly, gripping the hobbit's cloak and dragging him up, up…

Frodo's hand descended, gripping Sam as well, and together we got him up and into the boat. I clambered in as well, dripping and shivering even in the hot noon sun. Hah! It was hard to believe it was still only noon.

"Thanks, Lady," Sam wheezed, and Frodo nodded to me as well, gratitude shining in his eyes. Sam turned to his friend and master.

"I made a promise, Mr Frodo," he said, his voice slightly hurt, but also determined. "A promise! 'Don't you leave him, Samwise Gamgee.' And I don't mean to! I don't mean to."

"Oh, Sam." Frodo hugged him. "Come on, then." He looked at me. "Lady, you too?"

I was shaking my head before he'd finished the question. There was a part of me that would love to go with them, to protect Sam and Frodo both, but another part of me was afraid of what I might do if I were alone, with nothing between the wolf and the Ring but two valiant hobbits. Tough they might be, and most assuredly strong of heart, but I never wanted any harm to come to them – especially from me. And besides, our other friends needed my help back in the battle. So I shook my head, even though I feared this might be the last I saw of my two courageous, beloved hobbit friends. I nuzzle-licked Frodo, wishing him well on his Quest, and let Sam give me one last hug.

"I'm sorry, Lady – I tore this when I grabbed at you in the water." Sam held out my father's Stone to me as I prepared to leap out of the boat again. The cord that had held it around my neck was ripped in two. "Here."

I started to turn, to let him put it back on my neck. Then, hesitating, unsure why I was even doing this – I pulled away. Puzzled, I stared at the Stone. It was glowing slowly, and seemed to be telling me something…

I don't know why, or how, but I'd swear that somehow I knew that the Stone wanted to be with Sam. That was the message it was trying to pass to me. Sam had to have the Stone. He needed it more than me. My father's Stone… it was the hardest thing I'd ever done. But I'd been listening to my heart all this while, and it had not failed me thus far. I brought my muzzle forward, and slowly closed his fingers over the Stone, pushing his closed fist back towards him. I smiled at him, and saw understanding pass his features.

"You…you're giving it to me? Oh, Lady, I can't. This belonged to your Da, Legolas said so. The Lady gave it to you."

And so it was mine to give away. I rubbed my head against his hand, took one last look at the Stone, and leapt into the water, giving him no further chance to protest – and for me, no more chance of changing my mind.

Back to the battle for me, and I didn't look back. Frodo and Sam would walk in Destiny's hands now, and I could only hope that I would see them again. The blessings of Elves and Men and all Free Folk would go with them, no matter where they went.

And back in the forest, my other friends were still fighting, and they would need me.

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RK9.


	15. The Breaking of the Fellowship

**Disclaimer:** The Lament of the Wind belongs to JRR Tolkien, taken directly from the book.

**Author's notes: **Final chapter for Wolfheart. The next bit will be added to this same story, not started as a new story, but it will be a new story...understand? LOL. The next part of this entire thing, so this is the end of Wolfheart. Next up will be the first chapter of Wolflight. :)

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**Chapter 14**

I staggered out of the river, water dripping from my fur in a steady stream. I shook myself vigorously, but even so my fur would take time to dry. Oh well. It wasn't important – I needed to get back to Aragorn and the others.

My neck felt lighter now, with the weight of one Stone gone. It shouldn't have, but it did - maybe because the Stone of Reliability had been so important to me. I still wasn't sure why I had given it to Sam, but despite that, I had no true regrets – I felt it belonged with the hobbit somehow. Anyway, he might need the light of Reliability later on, wherever he and Frodo were going the road was sure to be darker and more dangerous than anything we had faced so far. He would need that light to see by, to guide him as he protected his master and helped him on his mission.

Nodding, I shook my fur out one final time and leapt into a run. I retraced my path through the woods, but stopped when I heard the sound of a horn being blown, clear and loud and commanding. I stopped, turning towards it – that was surely a call for help, but from whom?

Then I remembered – Boromir! He'd carried a horn with him, a beautiful white one, made of the horn of a great ox from long ago. He'd said it was the Horn of Gondor, also called the Great Horn, an heirloom of his House, and if ever the Horn was blown anywhere within the borders of the White City, all of Gondor would come to its bearer's aid. He'd been proud of it, an heirloom passed down to the first-born son of each ruling Steward of Gondor, and I supposed I couldn't blame him.

Now he was blowing it in a cry for help.

Grimly, I turned, certain that if Boromir was desperate enough to be calling for aid, then things couldn't be good.

Following the clear note of the Horn, I raced through the forest, dodging trees and leaping over boulders and logs. I reached the clearing where Boromir had earlier been taken by the madness of the Ring, and kept going. I soon passed the stone seat, picking my way through and over the carcasses of fallen Orcs. I scented the trail of a Man, an Elf and a Dwarf – Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli. They must have heard the Horn also and answered Boromir's call.

I followed their path, nose to the ground, and kept going. There was a sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach that said I was late, and that they needed my help _now_. And what about Merry and Pippin? Where were they? They hadn't been by the river, in the camp where Aragorn had asked them to stay. Were they hiding somewhere in the forest?

"No!"

That was Aragorn! I quickened my pace, chest tight and burning as I pushed myself to move faster. A flash of gold darted past me – Legolas, and Gimli right behind him, also headed in the direction of Aragorn's voice.

I think it was the first time in my life that I cursed the fact that forests had so many trees in them. Dodging and weaving around them made me take a zigzagging path that slowed me down somewhat. Darting around one last pine tree, I burst into a clearing, almost knocking Gimli off his feet. Around me lay a few Uruk-Hai carcasses, and there right on the edge of the clearing, Aragorn was bent over the body of our friend.

It was Boromir at his weakest, with no less than three arrows sticking out of his chest and abdomen. It was also Boromir at his strongest, for even now as he lay dying, I could see no weakness in him: there was no slump of the proud shoulders, nor any look of fear marring the familiar gray eyes.

And Aragorn, filthy, injured, bloodstained, knelt beside him, and such was the look on his face that I felt as though I was intruding in this private, final moment between two friends and brothers.

But I couldn't tear my eyes away. Legolas came to stand by me, one hand moving down to rest reassuringly on my still-damp head. I leaned on his leg, feeling unable to stand on my own.

Boromir grabbed Aragorn's shoulder. "They…they took the little ones," he choked out, looking distraught. Little ones? My eyes widened, he had to mean Merry and Pippin. The Orcs had taken them?

"Be still," Aragorn soothed. He reached for one of the evil-looking black arrows, but Boromir gripped his hand, stopping him.

"Leave it! Frodo – where is Frodo?"

Aragorn hesitated, but replied steadily: "I let Frodo go."

"Then you did what I could not." Boromir let his hand fall. He was shaking slightly, struggling to breathe. I hurt just looking at him, but was still held back by both Legolas and the expression of tender sorrow on Aragorn's face. "I…I tried to take the Ring from him," the son of Gondor confessed.

"The Ring is beyond our reach now," Aragorn told him, gently holding him. Boromir nodded.

"Forgive me," he rasped. "I did not see it. I have failed you all."

"No, Boromir," protested Aragorn at once. "You have fought bravely, you have kept your honor."

Boromir's eyes darkened. He seemed to be staring beyond Aragorn now, at something only he could see.

"It is over. The world of men will fall, and all will come to darkness… and my city to ruin."

"I do not know what strength is in my blood," Aragorn said now, and I could hear the promise in his words, "but I swear to you I will not let the White City fall…nor our people fail!"

"Our people? Our people!" Boromir nodded, looking at Aragorn, and I saw the joy and pride in his eyes as he reached for his sword. The Ranger placed it in his hand, and he clasped it to his chest. He looked at Aragorn again, and gasped: "I would have followed you, my brother, my Captain, my King!"

I stepped forward, but those were the last words spoken by the son of Denethor on Middle-Earth. Boromir's breathing faded, his chest stopped its labors for breath, and he stilled. I bowed my head. Gondor had lost a son, and we had lost a friend.

Aragorn's head bent, and he gently closed Boromir's eyes and placed a final kiss on his forehead. Then, there was silence in the clearing, as all of us mourned the loss of our friend, our brother, and fellow member of our Company.

Memories filled my mind, those of a frightening night in Lorien, when I'd been wandering around lost and alone. The wolf was confused by all the trees around me, and I felt I had been walking in circles for an age. Then the son of Denethor had appeared, silent and strong in the night, and together we had walked back to our sleeping alcove. We exchanged no words, but that night a fragile bond had been built between us.

But Friendship is often stronger than we realize it can be.

Looking up suddenly, I found the blue glow of Friendship shining strongly around me. Guided by an instinct that I could not name, I stepped forward gingerly towards the fallen hero, and knelt beside him. The light flared brighter, swirling around me, and covered Boromir's body from head to toe. I closed my eyes and pictured him, pictured the fair face and powerful personality, the pride and love for his people and city that had made him who he was. I saw him teaching Merry and Pippin how to fight with swords, saw him fighting alongside us in the mines, saw his bravery and courage and strength along every step of our journey thus far – and when I opened my eyes again, I found that the arrows had gone, disintegrated into dust, and his wounds and stains from battle had been healed and cleaned away. His clothing was whole; the holes from the arrows magically mended, and he appeared merely to be sleeping and at peace. He looked the very image of a noble soldier of Gondor but for his closed eyes, and with my work done I stepped back silently. This was the last gift I could give to him, and I hoped he would not mind.

Aragorn's hand clasped my shoulder, and we sat together, looking at the Man of Gondor for quite some time. Legolas and Gimli came to stand with us, and we stood there in silence until the birds began to sing their evening song. Then Aragorn stood, and taking up Boromir's body, began to bear him away in the direction of our camp. No words were exchanged, and we followed the Ranger as he carried our friend to his final resting place.

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Boromir's body was laid to rest in one of our Elven boats. Aragorn had decided that it would be as fitting a burial as any for us to send our friend off via the river, and let the river bear him to wherever it would. So we arranged his body in the boat with his hands holding his sword on his breast, and we put in his shield, his cloak, his pack and other weapons, his cloven Horn, and the weapons of the foes he had slain. Also, Aragorn wrapped a golden belt around his waist – I was surprised, but it seemed that this was the gift the Lady had given to him before we departed from Lorien. Then, leaving the water, Aragorn and Legolas stood on the bank together and sang a song called the Lament of the Winds, a final farewell for Boromir.

""_Through Rohan over fen and field where the long grass grows  
The West wind comes walking, and about the walls it goes.  
'What news from the west, O wandering wind, do you bring to me tonight?  
Have you seen Boromir the Tall by moon or by starlight?'  
'I saw him ride over seven streams, over waters wide and grey;  
I saw him walk in empty lands, until he passed away  
Into the shadows of the North. I saw him then no more.  
The North Wind may have heard the horn of the son of Denethor.'  
'O Boromir! From the high walls westward I looked afar,  
But you come not from the empty lands where no men are._"

And finally, pushing the boat out to where the current grabbed hold of it, we sent him off on his final journey.

Aragorn's face was somber as he stated quietly to us all, "They will look for his coming from the White Tower. But he will not return." Standing there by the water, with the fading sunlight playing across his face along with the reflection of the river, he looked tired, yet strong. A single tear slid down his cheek as the boat went out of sight beyond the river bend, and as I looked at him it seemed to me that he had the dignity of a King. Then he turned, and the moment faded.

"It is done. Boromir has been laid to rest."

"Then we should hurry," spoke up Legolas. "Frodo and Sam have already crossed and reached the eastern shore."

The Ranger stood still. He said nothing, and I alone knew why. Turning, he met Legolas' gaze with an inscrutable one of his own – inscrutable to me, that is, but not so for the Elf who knew him so well. Understanding crossed the beautiful face, and Legolas stated: "You mean not to follow them."

"Frodo's fate is no longer in our hands," Aragorn said quietly.

Gimli came trotting over. "Then it has all been in vain!" he exclaimed, hanging his head sadly. "The Fellowship has failed!"

As I turned to watch him, a light seemed to flare in the Ranger's eyes. He shook his head, stepping forward to place a hand on Legolas' and Gimli's shoulders. "Not if we hold true to each other." He smiled at me, the first true smile since Boromir had been slain, and nodded grimly. "We will not abandon Merry and Pippin to torment and death. Not while we have strength left! We will leave all that we can spare behind. Come first light, we three shall set off on the trail of the Orcs." Generously, he added, "And Lady, you shall join us. Together, we will make those Orcs know the meaning of fear! What say you, Master Elf and Master Dwarf? Do you feel up to running, my Lady Wolf?"

I gave him a Look, with raised eyebrows. Asking a wolf if she felt like running was like asking a cow if she would provide milk. Gimli was starting to grin fiercely. Legolas and he met each other's gaze, and then the Dwarf shouted an enthusiastic "Yes!", while Legolas nodded determinedly, a grin on his face. Aragorn grinned back.

"Very well. Elf, Dwarf and Man – and wolf as well – tomorrow, we shall make a chase that will be counted a marvel among the three kindreds!"

And in reaction, I felt the Stone of Friendship glowing, and its strong blue light surrounded us as we stood there, binding us together with strong bond. In that instant, we were connected – I felt Aragorn's quiet strength, Legolas' determination and loyalty, and Gimli's fierce courage. They looked at me, and I smiled back as the blue light swirled around us one more time before gently disappearing.

And though the Fellowship had been broken, we knew our journey had not yet ended – it was in fact just about to begin.

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**The End...of Wolfheart. The story continues in Wolflight, which will come soon. Keep an eye out! **

Please review and let me know what you think! Oh, and I want to ask: Do you think Lady is a Mary-Sue? Is she nauseatingly perfect? Do let me know, if so, I shall endeavor to change her, I promise.

Oh, and that last line by Aragorn is from what Viggo said in the DVD extras on the 'The Two Towers' DVD extended edition - it's also on YouTube, look for Injured Warriors on the Chase, although that video was cut short. I gather it's also from the book, so it's neither of ours. :)

Press the pretty purple button down there!

RK9.


	16. Wolflight: Prologue

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Lord of the Rings, only my OC. The song is from the Eragon soundtrack, performed by Jem.

**Author's notes: **I don't do those Quick Recap things, because summarizing is so not my forte, but if you don't remember then take a quick look at the previous chapters to refresh your memory, lol. Lady has four Stones, but one was given to Sam…remember? :) Yuppers. So, finally got chapter 1 and the Prologue okayed by FairOphelia - and I know it seems to start slow, and probably won't be as good as the ending chapters of Wolfheart, but it gets better in the following chapters, which are being betaed. That's a promise. (nods) So...stick around and give me a chance, eh?

And to all who reviewed - thank you so much. You have really made my day, even though I'm having fun just writing this it is always nice to feel that my work is appreciated and enjoyed, and thanks to those who also put in con crit as well - I have no objection to that, it's always good to learn my flaws so that I can improve. I'm also glad that most of you feel that Lady is far from a Mary Sue - I've written MSes in the past, and I want to be sure I don't this time.

**bookworm2011** - Yeah, sorry, I know I said Wolfspirit, but later my beta and I discussed it, and I decided to change the title of this sequel to Wolflight because Wolfspirit and Wolfheart were almost the same thing...

**Kaisaan** - Hm. Well, I might tell you later. Maybe. :) I'm sure you don't want to be spoiled...

**j.m.robertson - **Glad you liked it, but I'm a she! LOL.

**IcyWolfette** - Did I make it in time?

Well, here we go!

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**Wolflight**

**Prologue**

_It's time to move out of the darkness  
Use what you feel inside  
Your faith alone will guide you  
Feel the turning tide_

_It's in your heart  
It's in your soul  
Don't be scared, keep believing  
I know you'll know, deep inside, that your time has come_

_Once in every lifetime  
If you do believe  
Man can move a mountain,  
Change the course of history  
How far we've come, so far...  
From home_

_Trust in your path, you've been chosen  
Become your destiny  
Lead and they will follow you  
Your truth will set you free_

_It's in your heart  
It's in your soul  
Don't be scared, keep believing  
I know you'll know, deep inside, that your time has come_

_Once in every lifetime  
If you do believe  
Man can move a mountain,  
Change the course of history  
How far we've come, so far...  
From home_

_Once in every lifetime  
If you do believe  
Man can move a mountain,  
Change the course of history  
How far we've come, so far...  
From home_

_- "Once In Every Lifetime", performed by Jem for the Eragon soundtrack_

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RK9.


	17. Comin' To The Rescue

**Disclaimer:** I don't own... the song is from the Pokemon 2000 movie, by O Town...

**Edited to add (14 July 2008): **Added a song at the beginning of the chapter, because it fits. :)

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**Chapter 1**

_"__If you're tumbling down and your spirits fall  
Help's on the way  
We hear your call  
On a mission we're united as one  
Friends forever  
Here we come _

_In no time we'll be at your side  
We're a team on a roller coaster ride  
Each one of use knows just what to do  
Never gonna stop (Gonna stop)  
Searching for you (For you)  
Listen to me  
Searching for you (Oh, for you)  
We're gonna set you free _

_Coming to the rescue  
Get there in a hurry (Rescue)  
Baby, don't you worry (Rescue)  
This adventure's heating up  
I'll rescue you and if I do you gotta rescue me _

_So if you're lost  
One thing is true  
Never gonna stop looking for you  
You're not alone  
So have no doubt  
We'll put our heads together  
Gonna figure it out _

_Oh!  
Baby, listen to me  
We're gonna  
Gonna set you free _

_Coming to the rescue  
Get there in a hurry (Rescue)  
Baby, don't you worry (Rescue)  
This adventure's heating up  
I'll rescue you and if I do you gotta rescue me…"_

_- O Town, Pokemon movie 200 soundtrack_

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Wind rushing over my face and fur, sunlight pouring onto my back as I streak across the grassy plain. My paws move so fast even I can barely see them, but I feel the wolf's joy at running. And believe me, wolves like to run. We have the endurance to run for days at a time on little food or water, for we are built to survive anywhere, in any kinds of conditions.

Of course, I wasn't alone. I was merely leading the way, acting as a scout of sorts for my three companions – the oddest company of a Man, an Elf and a Dwarf, all so different yet united in their goal: to track down the band of Uruk-Hai who had stolen two of our friends. Long after this journey ended, they would surely be called the Three Hunters, and they would be known far and wide for this amazing pursuit over hill and dale that far surpassed any other chase known to the three kindred in all the history of Arda.

Aragorn, the Ranger, was not far behind me. The only reason that I had overtaken him was because he had only two legs to run on and not four. He seemed as untiring as the wolf in me, and this was even after three days of near-nonstop pursuit. As I turned my head to glance at him, he raced over to a large gray rock and knelt, pressing his ear to it to listen, closing his eyes so as to better focus on the sounds he wanted to hear. I stopped too, panting a little, but stayed as quiet as possible so as not to disturb him while he used his skills to track our prey.

Behind me, Legolas the Elf came bounding over with Elven grace. He could easily have matched my speed, beating even Aragorn, but he had chosen to fall behind slightly to keep an eye on Gimli, our Dwarven friend who was bringing up the rear. Gimli's short legs made it difficult for him to keep up, but so far he was doing so valiantly, with fewer words of complaint than was customary for the Dwarf. He huffed and puffed to a stop near Aragorn, but on this third day of our relentless race he had learned better than to attempt to sit down. Doing so would only make it more difficult for him to get up and continue, both because he was tired and because his muscles would protest. So instead he leaned on his axe and panted, glaring almost jealously at the untiring longer legs of the Elf and the Ranger.

After a while, Aragorn lifted his head, his gray eyes opening in a thoughtful expression. "Their pace has quickened," he noted, referring to the Orcs. "They must have caught our scent. Hurry!" And with that, he leapt to his feet, running over the rocky landscape once more. Gimli sighed, shrugging away Legolas' offered helping hand. The Elf grinned. "Come, Gimli!" he called, and he darted away after Aragorn, leaving me to raise an eyebrow at the Dwarf.

Gimli grunted, raising himself off his axe. "Three days' and nights' pursuit. No food. No rest. And no sign of our quarry but what bare rock can tell." He breathed in deeply, but complained no further, instead breaking into his odd little trotting run, keeping his eyes on the Elf and Man who were by now several feet away. Not wanting to be left behind, I starting running again also, overtaking the huffing Dwarf and catching up to Legolas with ease. I could have pushed myself, could have caught up to Aragorn as well, but I saw that there was no wisdom in tiring myself out that way.

If I'd had the time, I suppose I would have been admiring the landscape. It was breathtaking, and already I was experiencing the wonder of seeing a new land. I had barely left Tamra, where I'd grown up, and then we had moved to my mother's village, and I'd never left there either. Now I was traveling far and wide and doing things I'd never dreamed of doing; things no adventure story the world over could have prepared me for. I'd stared danger and death and darkness in the face, and I was sure I'd only seen the tip of the iceberg so far, that more was lurking beneath the deception of a still surface. Still, on a beautiful day like today, racing the wind over a beautiful land, it was hard to remember things like fear and shadows. Oh, I was no fool: I knew they were there. But light has a way of chasing away the darkness, even if only for a while.

I was interrupted from my musings as we rounded a rocky wall and Aragorn stopped and knelt on the ground to retrieve something. I sniffed the air – hobbit scent. He was holding a brooch shaped like a leaf, and I recognized it instantly, for each of the members of the Fellowship had received one of those cloak-pins along with their Elven cloaks prior to our departure from Lothlorien. Aragorn held it almost reverently between his fingers, and there was a gleam in his eyes, like a stalking tiger that has finally cornered its prey.

"Not idly do the leaves of Lorien fall," he murmured with satisfaction. "This belonged to one of the hobbits, torn in haste from an Elven cloak."

"They may yet be alive," said Legolas, looking at the little trinket, eyes shining.

I padded over to sniff at it. Having traveled with the Fellowship for quite some time, I had gotten to know each member's individual scent. The pin had picked up traces of Aragorn's and Legolas' scents, but there were other scents on it – faint Orc scent, and the tangy scent of Pippin, the younger of the two captives. I could not tell my companions this, but the trinket in itself was enough to give us all hope. Obviously Pippin must have been conscious enough to think straight, and somehow or other he had gotten the idea of ripping off his little brooch and throwing it to the ground for us who were following. Never mind that it was stamped into the dirt by Orc feet – he had believed that we would come after them, and we had, and it had not gone unnoticed.

"Less than a day ahead of us," Aragorn declared, and carefully pocketing the brooch, he was off again. Legolas looked past me to where Gimli had taken a tumble onto the grass.

"Come, Gimli! We are gaining on them!" he called encouragingly, and started after Aragorn.

Gimli picked himself up. "I'm wasted on cross country!" he called back, panting. "We Dwarves are natural sprinters! Very dangerous over short distances!"

Had I the vocal chords needed, I would have giggled. Instead I flicked my tail at him, grinned a wolf grin, and took off after Legolas.

Aragorn led us over a hill and towards a flat grassland. Here, Legolas leapt ahead and onto a rock, shielding his eyes from the sun as he scanned the horizon.

"Legolas, what do your Elf eyes see?" called Aragorn.

Try as I might, I myself could see nothing in the distance, no matter how hard I squinted and strained. But Legolas apparently saw much more, for he cried, "The Uruks turn northeast! They are taking the hobbits to Isengard!"

I blinked up at him. Isengard? Where was Isengard? From the way he said it, it didn't sound good. I turned my confused look to Aragorn, who murmured, "Isengard is where Saruman the White has made his base of operations, Lady. Do you know of him?"

Saruman the White – oh, yes. Gandalf had told me of him in Moria. The leader of the White Council and the most powerful of the wizards, the one who had betrayed Gandalf and imprisoned him at the top of the tower of Orthanc. Yes, I knew of him. I growled, and nodded my head. The Uruks were taking Merry and Pippin to _him_?

Aragorn nodded. "Saruman," he said, in a dire tone. His eyes hardened, and without another word he led the way down over the rocks, and Legolas followed without hesitation. I paused only so Gimli could catch us up, and then we were on our way once more.

I was afraid for Merry and Pippin, but I refused to give up my hope. I had to believe we would find them in time, had to believe they were alive and all right.

_Hold on, you two. We're coming! Your friends are on the way!_

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We stopped for a brief rest later that night, taking a short nap under the shelter of a group of large rocks. Aragorn soon woke us again near dawn, though. My limbs were stiff and aching, and I guessed that Gimli and the Man felt much the same, but we none of us complained. What were a few aches compared to what Merry and Pippin might be enduring, after all? Legolas was lucky, he felt less of all these aches and pains, being an Elf, but I was sure that even he felt tired.

I actually managed to hunt, finding a scrawny hare in a hidey-hole near the rocks, though how I managed to catch my prey when I was drained and exhausted is beyond me. The others feasted on the _lembas_ bread from the Elves, of which we still had a small supply – the rest of what we had been given had been taken by Sam and Frodo, and I hoped they could still find food wherever they were going because that supply wouldn't last long.

I wasn't all that much rested when we woke again – nightmares had been plaguing me of late, and it was difficult for me to find much rest. I dreamed of many things – of a dark, bleak landscape in a land of rock and fire, where the sky was dark and foreboding and there was little light to be found. I saw Gandalf and the Balrog, relived the moment where the wizard fell from the bridge of Khazad-Dum. I stumbled fearfully through a dark forest, where the trees whispered to one another about the anomaly of nature that had entered their midst, and behind me, an unknown terror followed, intent on giving me nothing but pain and death. And sometimes, beyond all these dream-memories and visions, I saw a tall, dark tower rising in the distance, and glimpsed at its peak a giant, fiery eye. It would turn, scanning its realm, and land at last on me, and it _saw _me_…_ It _saw me!_

Tired or not, you might understand now why I preferred to be awake.

We started off again as the sun rose, a brilliant vermillion after the darkness of the night. It looked beautiful to me – that is, until Legolas stopped to watch it with a worried expression on his face.

"A red sun rises," he said quietly. "Blood has been spilled this night."

The sound of hoof beats came to my ears before any of us could reply. Aragorn had heard it too, and in a trice he signaled Gimli and Legolas and guided us all towards the relative safety of another rock formation, similar to the one that had sheltered us during the night. The sound of thundering hoofs grew louder and louder in my ears, and I fought back a whine, hunkering down next to Legolas. A shadow darkened the air around me, and I looked up to see the green banner of a running horse and sun held up against the light. It was held by a man on a horse, and around him were more horse-men, all galloping quickly past our hiding place.

Slowly, Aragorn got to his feet, and as he slid out from the rocks, Legolas and Gimli followed him. I was a little slower. Being the one closest to the ground, I didn't like the view I had of the horses and their heavy hoofs.

"Riders of Rohan!" Aragorn called out, hailing the horse-men. "What news from the Mark?"

The reaction was immediate. A tall, helmeted Rider in the front of the Company gave some sort of signal, and the entire group began to circle in around us, closing us in the middle with spears aimed threateningly at us. I found several stabbing right at me, and pure instinct had me rolling over onto my back and exposing my tummy, waving my paws in the air in a gesture of submission – but my fangs were bared in a warning, silent growl.

"Hold!" cried Aragorn, seeing my plight. "Do not hurt her, please! She will not harm you or your horses!"

The spears did not back away, but neither did they stab forward and into me so I figured that was a blessing. Then the leader moved forward, and even through his helmet I could feel his suspicious stare.

"What business does an Elf, a Man and a Dwarf have in the Riddermark?" he demanded. "Speak quickly!"

My fur bristled at his brusque, semi-arrogant tone, but I supposed he had the right to sound that way. He did hold the upper hand right now. Gimli though, tired after the many miles we had run with little-to-no rest, had less control over his tongue and manners.

"Give me your name, Horsemaster, and I shall give you mine," he shot back, and I winced as it came out sounding like a challenge. Aragorn gave a sort of soundless sigh, eyes rolling slightly, and he placed a hand on Gimli's shoulder as the leader narrowed his eyes and dismounted. He moved forward, unafraid - probably because of the spears that were still pointed our way.

"I would cut off your head, _Dwarf_, if it stood but a little higher from the ground," he stated, both ominously and contemptuously.

Legolas had an arrow notched to his bow and aimed at the man before any of us could so much as blink. "You would die before your stroke fell!" he cried, and I was surprised at the fierceness I could hear in his voice, yet at the same time, touched by how deeply he now seemed to care for the Dwarf. I hadn't known he'd felt that way, and from the surprised look that Gimli was giving him, neither had the Dwarf.

The spears all moved in tandem, once more aimed at the four of us, only now specifically at Legolas, but Aragorn moved to gently push the Elf's arrow down. Facing the man, he said in a voice not unlike what one would use to calm down a dangerous animal: "My name is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. This is Gimli, son of Glóin and Legolas of the Woodland realm. We are friends of Rohan and of Théoden, your king. The wolf is Lady, and I give you my word that she is no threat to you, your men, or your horses."

He sent me a warning look, and I closed my lips over my fangs again. I hadn't realized they were still bared fiercely. The leader regarded the Ranger, and finally he removed his helmet, revealing a proud face with a head of fair hair and discerning eyes. He spoke, holding his helmet under his arm.

"Théoden no longer recognizes friend from foe," he said shortly. "Not even his own kin."

The spears were withdrawn, and I rolled over, eyeing the lowered points rather warily as I slunk slowly over to Aragorn's side. I had no doubt that a signal from their leader would be all it would take for them to come back up.

"Saruman has poisoned the mind of the king and claimed lordship over these lands. My company are those loyal to Rohan, and for that, we are banished." Fire blazed in his eyes for a moment, before he continued: "The White Wizard is cunning. He walks here and there, they say, as an old man hooded and cloaked. And everywhere, his _spies_ slip past our nets." Emphasizing the word 'spies', he then gave Legolas a particularly hard stare.

Aragorn spoke up, turning the man's gaze back to him. "We are not spies. We track a party of Uruk-Hai westward across the plain. They've taken two of our friends captive."

"The Uruks are destroyed," answered the horse-lord, after a brief pause to digest this information. "We slaughtered them during the night." I felt more than heard the mutters of satisfaction from the men around us at this statement, and glanced around warily. If they took such pleasure in destroying the Enemy's servants, then I hoped they weren't after my blood as well.

"But there were two hobbits!" Gimli exclaimed. "Did you see two hobbits with them?"

"They would be small, only children to your eyes," Aragorn added, and now that I knew him, I could see the flash of anxiety in his gray eyes.

"We left none alive. We piled the carcasses and burned them," replied the leader, and he turned to point to a smoking pile on a hill in the distance. For the first time, his gaze softened, for the four of us were staring at the pile in horror and disbelief.

Merry and Pippin…dead? Slaughtered and burned with the Uruk-Hai? It couldn't be. We were still raw from the death of Boromir…how could we handle another loss so soon? I let out a low moan before I realized it, and Legolas gently knelt beside me, stroking my fur.

"I am sorry," said the man, his voice a little gentler this time. He hesitated, then turned and whistled sharply. "Hasufel! Arod!"

Two horses detached themselves from the outer edges of the circle: one a white gelding, the other a chestnut. The man ran a hand over the neck of the nearest one, and turned to us again, saying, "May these horses bear you to better fortune than their former masters." Putting on his helmet, he moved to remount his horse. "Look for your friends," he told us. "But do not trust to hope. It has forsaken these lands." Then, to his men: "We ride north!"

My head felt suddenly too heavy to hold up, and I sagged against Legolas in building sorrow. Merry. Pippin. Had we failed them?

But no. I struggled back to my paws. Inside me, something flared, a tiny ember of hope that struggled to burn still against the despair that was trying to quell it. No. There was still a chance, a tiny chance! We could go there, and look, and perhaps… perhaps they had gotten away! Perhaps they lived still…

The Rider was wrong. If we did not trust to hope, then our battle was already lost. Hope was what gave us strength against the rising darkness; it was the light that refused to stop shining. I had to remember all that my mother had taught me about hoping, about believing and having faith. Looking tiredly at my friends, I refused to give in to the shadows of despair. There was still a chance, and a small chance was better than none at all. We had to try. Aragorn was mounting Hasufel, the chestnut gelding, and Legolas was helping Gimli onto Arod. I saw a miasma of emotions in their faces, but realized that they hadn't given up either. The ember still burned within all of us, and we owed it to Merry and Pippin to at least try and see if by some miracle they still lived. The man had said there were no children – did that not mean that there was a tiny possibility that the hobbits had not been in the battle, that they had escaped elsewhere either before or during the fighting?

Without a word, the Ranger nudged Hasufel's side and urged him into a light canter. Legolas followed, Gimli holding grimly onto the Elf. Tiredly I followed them, my eyes unable to tear themselves from the hill and the burning pile.

No. I had to cling to hope. _Merry, Pippin! We're coming!_

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Chapter 2 to come soon, soon, soon...

Oh, and if there are any Princess Bride/Lord of the Rings fans out there, here are a list of crossover/humorous quotes that are absolutely hilarious! Unfortunately, I didn't write them - I wish I had! Go take a look:

http: / / mollyringwraith . livejournal . com / 44608 . html

And please review!

RK9.


	18. An Unexpected Reunion

**Disclaimer: **Not mine.

**Author's notes:** Okay, here's chapter 2! So sorry for the long wait - FairOphelia managed to finish betaing up till chapter 4, so here they are! :) Thank her later, yes?

I'm also working on another fic, a Fourth Age fic called Two Princes. Do check it out and leave me your thoughts on it - link's in my profile. It's not first-person, but it's been sitting in my notebook for years, so the first few chapters are undoubtedly not up to par. But it should get better. :)

Hope you're all still with me! The first few chapters of Wolflight are a little slow and dry to start out, but later chapters are better... I couldn't cut out much from the movie script, which is why it's all just movie-stuff. Thanks to **JenCarpeDiem**, **Randomisation**, **pixie freak**, **Rushingriver**, **Kaisaan**, **Memory bleeds**, **MerrytheHobbit**, **bubbledrawl** and **Temeti **for your reviews.

Review responses:

**pixie freak** - I answered that question early on in Wolfheart. Kaisaan and a few others asked the same thing. :) LOL, yes, she should turn back. I'm considering a twist where she gets stuck for good... but for now, the bunny is quite insistent that she turns back.

**Kaisaan** - I don't HAVE to respond, but I want to. I love your reviews! :) Thanks for sticking with Lady and me this far. Yes, I've always known I'm very nice, thanks. (Kidding!) Um, okay. A hint to what inspired the Stones (fill in the blanks, one dash stands for one letter):

- - e / - i - i - o - / - - e - - -

That's three words, each separated by a slash, and no cheating by asking my beta, cause not even she knows!

Yes... on with the fic!

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**Chapter 2**

Unable to ride, I ran alongside the horses as we headed towards the burning pile of bodies. The scent of burned flesh assaulted my nostrils right away as we approached it, and I gagged, thinking that I might not be able to handle the strong smell. But my concern for our little hobbit friends had me gritting my teeth and pushing onwards anyway, wrinkling my nose and hoping that I would get used to the scent. It helped me to focus on other things, yes, like the scent of my three friends and their horses, but there was only so much one could block out, even so.

The first thing to greet us as we arrived was the head of a dead Uruk, no more handsome in death than in life, which had been chopped off and impaled on a sharp stick. Startled by its sudden appearance as we approached, my fur automatically fluffed out. I felt no pity for the dead Uruks, but somehow the gruesome sight of the head on the post made me feel a chill running down my spine.

Gimli slithered quickly off Legolas' horse as we finally came to a stop, and he rushed to sift through the pile of dead Uruks, of which most were now ashes and charred remains. The only things that had actually survived the flames were the weapons and armor, and it was one of these that the Dwarf lifted on the end of his axe, an expression of mixed horror and sorrow on his face.

"It's one of their wee belts," Gimli said somberly to us, holding up the blackened strap, which I recognized as the buckle from the belt that Merry had been wearing. Legolas closed his eyes and bowed his head, murmuring something in Elvish that sounded like a prayer.

Aragorn swung abruptly to one side and kicked out at a helmet with startling fury. The moment his foot connected with the metal, he let out a yell of pain and frustration, falling to his knees as he released his grief to the sky. I moved closer to him, feeling strangely numb. Merry and Pippin. Dead. How could it be? A low moan, the only way the wolf had to express the sadness I felt, whistled its way out of my muzzle, and I dropped to the ground beside the Ranger, unable to stand.

"We failed them," said Gimli, sadly.

Aragorn bowed his head. I was strangely fascinated by the way his throat convulsed as he swallowed hard, staring at the ground in front of us; but like I said, I felt very numb inside, as though someone had managed to do something to lessen the full rush of pain and grief that I was feeling inside. I just couldn't believe it.

And then, Aragorn climbed slowly to his feet. Looking at the intent expression on his face, I frowned and got to my paws as well. He looked as though he'd seen something, something important. And suddenly there was hope in me again, warm hope that burned gently through my numbness and melted within me the feelings that I'd thought had become frozen with despair.

The Ranger moved now with fluid grace, one hand outstretched slightly as he studied the ground, squinting a little in the light of the noon sun. His head tilted this way and that, and intrigued, I pushed forward, trying to see what he was looking at. We found it together, he and I, though we each saw different clues that contributed the answer to the same puzzle.

The sensitivity of my nose had faded somewhat thanks to the pungent smell of burnt Uruk, but when I pressed my nose close to the dirt, I scented the faintest of hobbit scents. At the same time, Aragorn knelt and touched the ground faintly, brushing his fingers over the earth. "A hobbit lay here," he noted, the faintness of a relieved smile almost in evidence on his face. "And the other."

He was right. I could scent Pippin's smell, a tangy, energetic scent that was laced slightly with fear. It was faint, but it was there. And nearby, also soured slightly with fear-scent, was the unique scent of Merry, his cousin. I followed the scent, tracing it over the ground and surrounding air with my nose. The scent of horse and Uruk blood interlaced to hide it somewhat, but I focused on piecing together their trail.

"Good work, Lady," Aragorn murmured as I began to move, following the hobbit-scent. "Yes, they crawled this way…"

He moved with me, and Legolas and Gimli hesitated no longer. Elf and Dwarf had both been paying us their complete attention, and now with hope shining in their eyes they followed us, staying silent as we moved. I led the way, Aragorn right beside me, detailing every action that he could read in the tracks the pair had left behind.

"Their hands were bound," he noted at one point, and a little later, as we found a blade and sawed ropes, he said, "Their bonds were cut." A little way away, he added, "They ran over here….they were followed."

My head jerked up, and I frowned deeply in disappointment. The scent-trail had become erratic here, and I couldn't follow it. Thankfully, Aragorn had no such problems. A mere glance over the ground revealed to him a story that I could not see, and he told it to us, translating it as an interpreter might for those who did not understand a certain language.

"The tracks lead away from the battle…." He broke off and leapt into a little run, towards the trees, and stopped abruptly at the edge of the massive forest that loomed beside us. "…into Fangorn Forest," he finished his sentence, and there was slight apprehension in his gaze as he stared at the line of trees that were the boundaries of said forest. I felt it too, a strange sense that I couldn't quite describe, that filled me as I stared at the trees.

_A dark forest, whispering of the strangers who had entered its world. Running, scrambling over roots and dirt, chased by a nameless terror that was bent on claiming my life._

Fangorn. The forest from my dreams. Shivering, I waited as my friends gathered their own thoughts and courage.

"Fangorn," Gimli was saying. "What madness drove them in there?"

I shrugged helplessly. I didn't know. Perhaps we were soon to find out?

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I suppose it was clear from the moment we realized where the tracks led that we would eventually have to follow them into the forest. Shaking aside my fears with the most practical thoughts I could conjure into my mind – you know, thoughts such as "Fangorn Forest isn't evil" and "There are three tough warriors with you so there's no need to be afraid" – I followed my friends bravely past the first line of trees. And once inside, as most people usually find when they face their fears head-on, I discovered that the forest was truly not as dark or scary as it had seemed from the outside at first glance. Why, the wolf liked it too. It was neither good nor evil, but like the Watcher in the Water, was simply too ancient to take sides. The trees did whisper, yes, but somehow their murmurs were nowhere near as ominous as they had been in my dreams. They did not seem to mind my presence, for like them, I was a part of Nature, and therefore, I belonged.

In a way, I felt as though I had come home. I saw that my friends did not feel this way, however, and so concluded that it must a wolf thing, this feeling of being at home in a forest. Aragorn was alert, eyes scanning around us as we walked along, and Gimli was grimly eyeing the trees as though something might pop up from behind one and attack. Legolas was the only other one of our foursome who seemed the most comfortable besides me, and he was looking around at the forest with an expression akin to wonder.

Gimli was the first to spot something, and now he moved over to where some leaves were stained with black blood. Putting out a finger, he dabbed some onto his tongue to taste, and promptly spat it back out in disgust. "Orc blood," he growled.

Over in another corner, Aragorn was examining the ground. "These are strange tracks," he frowned.

The Elf looked at us, finally speaking. "This forest is old," he stated quietly. "Full of memory…and anger."

Anger? I took a step towards my friends and promptly froze again as a loud, creaking groan sounded, echoing loudly in the ancient woods. Gimli spun with a cry, axe raised and ready for battle as his eyes scanned the trees for enemies.

More creaks and groans, somehow angrier this time, reverberated through the forest, and finally I understood.

"The trees are speaking to each other," Legolas confirmed my guess, looking around cautiously.

"Gimli! Lower your axe," Aragorn said, quickly guessing at what had angered the trees.

Understanding crossed the Dwarf's expression, and slowly he did as requested, looking around apprehensively at the trees.

"They have feelings, my friend," Legolas said seriously, glancing at the Dwarf. His gaze flickered from one tree to another, as he went on: "The Elves began it; waking up the trees, teaching them to speak."

"Talking trees," Gimli nodded in response. Glancing carefully around him, he said, slowly and clearly, "What do trees have to talk about, hm? Except the consistency of squirrel droppings..."

_Crunch_.

Ears pricked, I turned quickly. I'd heard something. Legolas started as well, alerted both by my reaction and his own Elven hearing. He glanced around quickly before saying: "Aragorn, _nad no ennas_!"

"_Man cenich_?" answered Aragorn at once, voice low.

"The White Wizard approaches," Legolas replied, and instantly all four of us were tense, waiting…

The Stone of Friendship began to glow softly at my throat.

"Lady!" Aragorn reacted swiftly, removing his Elven cloak and tossing it over my head. As I instinctively began to struggle against the fabric, the Ranger knelt beside me, holding me still. "We don't want him to see the glow," he explained, whispering straight into my ear. "Keep still, Lady." Looking back to Gimli and Legolas, he instructed softly, "Do not let him speak. He will put a spell on us."

Legolas nodded, notching an arrow to his bow. Gimli tightened his grip on his axe.

"We must be quick." Aragorn set his hand upon the hilt of his sword.

Grumbling slightly in my throat, I watched from beneath the cloth as all three of my friends swiftly spun to attack with loud battle cries. At the last moment, though, my eyes widened, and I sniffed urgently at the air as a scent that I'd thought had vanished from Middle-Earth forever filled my nostrils, unchanged, yet at the same time, slightly different from what it had once smelled like.

"Argh!" Aragorn shielded his eyes from the bright light that had appeared with one arm, dropping his sword with a curse as it became red-hot. Legolas' arrow and Gimli's axe were neatly deflected and shattered.

Heart filled with mingled disbelief, hope and joy, I rushed forward with a bark of welcome. This must have confused my friends terribly, but now I knew. The Stone of Friendship hadn't been glowing for the four of us. It was glowing…for _him_ – yes, I knew who it was!

"You are tracking the footsteps of two young hobbits," a knowing voice said from the center of the light. It wasn't the voice I remembered, and yet it was, it was!

"Where are they?" demanded Aragorn, glaring at the Wizard.

"They passed this way the day before yesterday," was the obliging reply. "They met someone they did not expect. Does this comfort you?"

It did. It was confirmation that our friends were alive, and though I would rather have them here with me, it was enough for now to know that they still lived. My tail wagging, I gazed at the wizard with happiness, uncaring that I probably looked like a common dog.

Aragorn frowned. "Who are you?" He was looking from me to the Wizard, puzzled by my lack of aggression and fear. The Ranger was starting to figure out that this wizard was no enemy… "Show yourself!"

The light dimmed at once in response, and slowly, Elf, Dwarf and Man uncovered their eyes… and stared. I just gave another joyful bark and leapt forward, rushing towards the Wizard who stood revealed to us in dazzling white splendor. There was no mistaking that kind, wise, beloved face. I had not been wrong; my nose had not lied.

It was Gandalf.

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**Translations:**

**Aragorn, **_**nad no ennas!**__ –_ Aragorn, something's out there!

_**Man cenich?**_ – What do you see?

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	19. The Light Inside

**Chapter 3**

_"Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before you can meet again. And meeting again, after moments or lifetimes, is certain for those who are friends." -Richard Bach_

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I pounced playfully on the Wizard, my joy at seeing him again making me feel almost giddy. I nudged him, giving him playful head-butts and elated nuzzle-licks. This was impossible; yet here was the proof standing here and responding to me with gentle strokes and pats. I arched my head – dead Wizards couldn't rub behind my ears like _that_, I was sure of it!

"Well met again, Lady," the familiar voice said, amusement lacing it with a gentle warmth. "Yes, I'm alive, and I'm very pleased to see you again as well."

I looked up at him affectionately, love giving my gaze a gentle glow. The wizard was dressed completely in unblemished white robes, an ornately carved white staff in his hand in place of his old one. His hair and beard, once gray as the clouds before a storm, had now turned as white as his clothes. Only his wise, twinkling eyes remained gray, and his features were as kind and knowing as ever. I smiled up at him, tail waving madly, and turned to where my three friends were still gaping in disbelief.

"It cannot be," breathed Aragorn, but I could see the hope in his eyes already pushing aside his disbelief and wonder.

Legolas dropped suddenly to one knee, looking ashamed and horror-struck at what he had nearly done. "Forgive me. I mistook you for Saruman." Gimli bowed, too, awkwardly bending in half, his face equally shamed and upset.

Gandalf gave my head one last, fond pat and turned to the Elf, Dwarf and Man. "I _am_ Saruman," he stated solemnly. "Or rather, Saruman as he should have been."

"You fell!" exclaimed Aragorn.

"Through fire!" Gandalf agreed. "And water." His eyes took on a faraway sheen as he thought back, remembering things that he alone had experienced. "From the lowest dungeon to the highest peak, I fought with the Balrog of Morgoth. Until at last I threw down my enemy, and smote his ruin upon the mountainside."

He bent his head. "Darkness took me, and I strayed, out of thought and time. Stars wheeled overhead, and every day was as long as a life-age of the earth. But it was not the end. I felt life in me again." He looked up again and smiled. "I've been sent back until my task is done."

"Gandalf!"

I grinned. Aragorn finally believed, I could hear it in the tone of his exclamation. I ran back to the Ranger, wanting to share in his happiness, dancing around him like a happy puppy. But I couldn't help myself. I _was_ happy, deliriously so. The Ranger laughed at me, trying to catch hold of me and make me stand still, but I wouldn't let him spoil my fun, dancing madly out of reach of his grasping hands each time.

"Gandalf…yes, that was what they used to call me," Gandalf mused, taking a step forward. "Gandalf the Gray. That was my name." He smiled, observing my antics. "I am Gandalf the _White_. And I come back to you now at the turn of the tide." Gently placing a hand on Legolas' shoulder, then Gimli's, he silently bade them stand and straighten, telling them with his smile that all was forgiven.

We made our way back through the forest, and as we walked, Gandalf told us of how the eagle Gwaihir had come to him, bearing his naked and broken body to Lorien, where he was clothed and replenished, and given a new staff by Galadriel. Once the time was right, he made his way south to Fangorn Forest, where he had met up with us. The three of us listened in silence, each with our own thoughts, yet we all shared the joy of having our beloved wizard with us once again.

I walked beside the wizard, head and tail high for the first time in days. Having Gandalf back had restored my hope for the future, and I felt more like my old self than I had in much too long a while. The wizard led us safely to the border of the forest, seeming to know the way on his own, and found us a good spot where we could build a fire and camp for the night.

"One stage of your journey is over," Gandalf told us seriously. "Another begins. Come morning, we must ride to Edoras with all due speed."

"Edoras?" Gimli, seated near the fire with his axe, now looked skeptical. "That is no short distance!"

I sent the Dwarf a Look, rolling my eyes – he was one to talk. He'd be riding behind Legolas on Arod, but I would have to run all the way there!

Aragorn's hand descended on my head, soothing my bristling fur. "We hear of trouble in Rohan," he said to the Wizard, giving me a warning glance. "Apparently it goes ill with the king."

"Yes, and it will not easily be cured," said Gandalf, staring thoughtfully into the fire. "It was more than mere chance that brought Merry and Pippin to Fangorn, you know," he went on. "A great power has been sleeping here for many long years. The coming of Merry and Pippin will be like the falling of small stones that starts an avalanche in the mountains."

Aragorn grinned. "In one thing you have not changed, dear friend," he told the Wizard.

"Hm?"

"You still speak in riddles."

As my friends shared a small time of laughter, a cavernous yawn escaped me, and I gave in to the urge to stretch myself. I suppose I was still tired from the chase of the last few days, but I was rather unwilling to sleep. Padding away from the fire, I moved to where Legolas was sitting on the edge of our campsite, keeping watch as the night went on. The Elf looked up as I approached, and he patted the earth beside him. Taking the invitation, I stretched myself out there, and turned my head to follow his gaze to the sky.

It had been a real emotional ride over the past few days. Boromir's death, the breaking of the Fellowship, then thinking that we had lost Merry and Pippin - only to find that they were indeed safe, and now Gandalf was alive. I yawned again, and a slender Elven hand descended to stroke through the fur on my back.

"You should rest, Lady," Legolas told me, giving me a look of concern. Firelight danced across his face, giving his already glowing Elven complexion a look of even more ethereal beauty. I gazed back at him, and shook my head quickly. I didn't want to sleep. The dreams came when I tried – resting was out of the question. I was _afraid_ to sleep…it was as simple as that.

The Elf paused – the deep breath before the plunge – and asked: "Is it the nightmares, Lady, that prevent you from seeking the rest you need?"

Now how did he know about my nightmares? I gave him a sharp, slightly confused look, but he went on: "You've been whimpering in your sleep and tossing and turning for hours on end each night, Lady, did you think that we had not noticed?"

I stared at him in dismay. I hadn't wanted to bother my friends with my troubles, but it seemed that they had been disturbed by me anyway. Legolas rubbed behind one of my ears gently.

"We do not blame you – but this is a burden you can share, Lady. Let me sing you to sleep again, all right? The last time helped, didn't it?"

I shook my head, trying to tell him that it wasn't necessary. He smiled gently at me in reply, saying without words that it was no great trouble of a task, and I felt my heart melt. With a sigh, I laid my head on his lap, grateful for the Elf's friendship. He was always ready to take care of me, and I just wasn't used to it. It was nice though, a luxury that I'd never really gotten to enjoy before. Letting out a breath, I listened as he began to sing. He stroked my fur as he sang, a shorter lullaby than the one he'd sang by the river a while ago, but it was no less beautiful, and slowly, I felt a gentle calmness settling in my heart. And as the song ended, I heard him whisper a promise: that he would watch over me tonight, so I would have nothing to fear. And so I closed my eyes, the light of Friendship giving me the courage I needed to face my dreams.

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_T.K.: I agree that the powers of darkness are a terrible thing. And I think I speak for all of us by saying it would be easier if they were destroyed. But I just don't think that it's possible._

_Ken: But why not?_

_T.K.: Because where there's light, you'll always find darkness as well._

_Kari:T.K.'s right, and the stronger the light is, then the deeper the darkness._

_T.K.: Exactly. So we have to remember that no matter how hard the powers of darkness surround you, the most important thing is not to lose the light inside._

_Ken: But I don't understand. What _is_ the light inside?_

_- Digimon Adventure 02, episode 37, "Kyoto Dragon"_

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_Here again? Well, I suppose I should have expected it. It had been a while since I'd been here. The forest had grown, more vibrant with colorful flowers than it had been during my last visit. As I stepped forward, several little birds fluttered down to flit around my head, unafraid even when the wolf gave a sudden growl at this daring infringement on its personal space._

_I was back in the dreamscape. _

_**- Yes, you certainly are. I apologize – I know it's been a while, but I felt there was no need to call you here, not after my old friend had given you the fourth Stone. - **_

_The Voice sounded cheerful, but still I saw no body to go with it. Glancing around, I sat down to wait. _

_**- Ah, little one. You have done well in giving the Stone of Reliability to the hobbit. As you guessed, he will indeed have need of its strength where he's going. Mount Doom is no playground for children, it is a place where darkness and despair hold sway, and who better than a practical young hobbit with a sturdy heart to aid our Ringbearer on his way? Yes, Reliability will guide them, it will help them to remember what needs to be done and help them find the strength to do it. – **_

_I could envision the Voice shaking her head fondly. __**- That Stone…yes, I knew it belonged to your father. He was a wonderful bearer for it – he could always be counted upon to do the right thing. Only one time did he fail – the one time when he forgot to stay true to his heart. In staying 'dependable' to others, he forgot to do the same for himself…and so he and your mother split up. It was a decision I suspect he regretted until the day he died… but he never stopped loving her, your mother. -**_

_No, I didn't doubt that he had. She had never stopped loving him either. I still remembered the stories she'd told me of him, when she was in the mood to talk about him. There had been love in those tales, and she had never so much as looked at another Man or Elf during her entire life. _

_The Voice let me have a few moments of nostalgia, but then she regretfully spoke again. __**- Well, little one. This is the new Stone that you have earned. In these past few days, I know you have been suffering; for all that you have also shown courage and loyalty to your friends. I give to you the light of Hope, little one. -**_

_No butterflies this time, but there was the merest brush of …something… as the new Stone materialized on my collar. It was a bright, cheerful yellow, and the symbol that it had to show me as I touched it was that of a shining yellow sun rising over the mountains. _

_**- This is one of the most powerful of the Stones, little one, for hope is what gives life to the Light, and to the other Stones as well. When the darkness surrounds you, what is important is that you do not lose the light inside of you, and the light inside of you… is hope. Remember this well, little one. I'm proud of you for not giving in to despair and darkness. Keep it safe, then – you will know what to do with it when the time comes. -**_

Thanks_, I thought, knowing that she would hear me._ _As the bright light appeared above me as usual, the fleeting thought crossed my mind: _why me?_ Why had I been chosen, out of all the powerful warriors of Middle-Earth, to bear these Stones? But then I was taken up and out of the dreamscape, and the laughter of the Voice followed me, lingering in my dreams and even into the waking world. _

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Dawn woke me the next day, and I glanced around, somewhat surprised. I had actually slept through the night, with not one single nightmare. I didn't attribute it completely to Legolas' Elven lullaby, but I was willing to bet that it hadn't hurt.

Dear Legolas. I glanced around the camp, settling a fond look on the tall Elven figure when I finally located him. He was speaking with Aragorn, Gimli and Gandalf by the fire, and if wolves could blush I would have – it seemed that I had been the last to awaken this time around.

Getting to my slightly stiff paws, I remembered that I now had another new Stone – a fact that did not go unnoticed by the Wizard as I approached.

"Ah. The Lady Galadriel told me of these," he murmured, bending to greet me with a hand on my head, his eyes scrutinizing my collar with keen interest. The wolf turned away from his gaze, and I studied the earth beneath my paws as he made his examination.

"Four Stones," he noted, raising his gaze at last, and I turned back to look at him.

Legolas glanced at me, and gave a start of surprise. "One of them is new – surely you should have five, Lady? Why, where is your father's Stone?"

I raised my eyebrows. I remembered my mother commenting once that most members of the opposite gender seemed to have problems noticing some of the finer details about those of the fairer sex, but seriously, one would think the Elf would have noticed this much earlier.

"Lady has not had the Stone of Reliability that the Lady Galadriel gave to her since she sent Frodo and Sam on their way across the river, Legolas," Aragorn informed the Elf, a sudden, delightedly mischievous grin on his face. "But worry not - I shall remember this moment for the next time that you taunt me with the superiority of your Elven eyes, Master Elf."

Legolas made a face at Aragorn, much to my delight – I seldom got to see the Elf indulge in this kind of human playfulness.

"I knew that," Gimli tossed quickly to our conversation, in a tone that said that he hadn't, but he wasn't about to seem as unobservant as the Elf. I shook my head at him and pretended to growl.

Gandalf's eyes twinkled merrily at the four of us, as he sat there, a silent observer in our banter. "It's good to know," he remarked, "That some things, at least, have not changed."

Smiling at him, I knew exactly what he meant. And as the Stone of Friendship started to shine for the umpteenth time, I basked with great contentment in its glow.

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	20. Disturbing Dreams, and Edoras

**Author's notes: **I know I have been using American spelling for Gandalf's name - Gandalf the _Gray_, Gandalf _Gray_hame, and I'm used to the British spelling which I know is official - but this entire fic is already in American spelling, and I didn't want it to be inconsistent. But if you don't like it, do let me know and I'll change it back. I must admit I prefer British, but for consistency's sake...

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**Chapter 4**

Finally, the time came for us to bid farewell to Fangorn, and we waited only long enough for Legolas to thank the trees for sheltering us during the night. Then we walked the short distance to the edge of the plains, where Gandalf paused. Pursing up his lips, he emitted a long, shrill note, whistling in a clear tone that traveled far over the land. It was obvious that he was summoning someone or something, though who, I did not know.

But not much later, an answering neigh was heard, and we all looked up, following the Wizard's gaze to where a beautiful white-gray horse was galloping in easy, flowing strides across the plains, headed straight for us. There was beauty in the way the sunlight touched the white coat, turning it to golden flame, and I stared in undisguised wonder as the animal kept coming in answer to Gandalf's call.

"That is one of the _Mearas_, unless my eyes are cheated by some spell," Legolas said in open admiration.

As though it had heard him, the horse tossed its head proudly and came to a stop in front of Gandalf, who stroked the long neck gently with great respect and love. He nodded to Legolas.

"Shadowfax," he murmured. "He is the lord of all horses, and has been my friend through many dangers."

Shadowfax stamped a regal hoof as I approached him, wanting to get a closer look. The great animal looked as kingly as Gandalf said he was, and I bowed low to the ground as he looked down at me, sizing me up with his gaze, which was as wise and knowing as Gandalf's. He seemed to nod at last; apparently whatever he had seen in me, he liked, and to my surprise, he bent and touched his large nose to mine. That in turn clinched it for me: I _liked_ this horse.

The Wizard patted the glossy white neck one last time before mounting the majestic creature, apparently choosing to ride Elven-style with no saddle or bridle. "Edoras awaits us," he reminded us of our next destination. "Lady, I'm afraid you will simply have to keep up with the horses."

I nodded back to the Wizard. Aragorn had mounted Hasufel again, and Legolas helped Gimli onto Arod. There was no way I could ride, and I had no inclination to try anyway. I'd been rather afraid of riding as a child – let's just say there was a Bad Experience with a spooked pony in the woods – and so I was actually rather glad that I had only to depend on my own paws right now.

And anyway, the day had yet to come when a wolf will say 'no' to the option of running.

We traveled towards Edoras, with Gandalf and Shadowfax in the lead, stopping only at night when the horses and I became tired – though Shadowfax was barely breaking a sweat even after our hard day's ride. Flopping down on the grass as the others built a small fire, I panted, tongue dangling from my mouth limply. I struggled to catch my breath as the others caught and cooked some small rabbits for dinner, though Aragorn tossed me mine right away. I gave him a grateful look – so he had noticed that my wolf body processed raw meat better than cooked meat. With an exhausted body and a full belly, I was more than ready to fall asleep.

Dreams or no dreams, whatever came, I'd take, I told myself. And so, as Aragorn and Gandalf moved slightly away to speak to each other and Legolas and Gimli settled down by the fire, I closed my eyes and tried to court sleep.

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_Darkness and shadow swirled around me. I blinked; this didn't seem to be a dream. There was no light in this place, save from the weak sunlight that fell from above me, struggling through the gray clouds that covered the sky overhead. _

_I was standing on a rocky outcropping, overlooking a sandy, unmarked dirt path that led to an enormous black gate, where Orcs patrolled or stood guard on top of the towers and walls at its sides. The air here stank of fear and darkness, and I felt the presence of evil all too clearly. Looking around, I saw no one, and somehow the thought of being alone in such a place filled me with terror. _

_The sound of marching footsteps came to my ears, a steady, synchronized beat that had me trying to peer over the edge of the rocks that currently hid me from the view of those below. _

_An army of dark Men in black armor marched past me, and horns sounded from the gate as they approached. The gates opened for them, and I slowly crept forward. I could see a way down…_

"_Sam, no!" a voice cried. _

_Frodo? _

_No wait! _I _was Sam? ...Whoah! _

_The rock had given way under my weight, and now I fell, sliding down the sandy slope and ending up at the bottom in a bruised, crumpled heap. It felt like my fall had scraped off at least one layer of skin, but worse, some of the marching soldiers had noticed me! _

_Or at least, they'd noticed the sound of something tumbling down, and now two men from the back of the line were separating from their group to investigate. _

"_Sam!" _

_Suddenly, Frodo was there with me, anxious eyes lighting on my face as he pulled me down and threw his cloak over the both of us. Footsteps crunched over the rock and gravel towards us, and we huddled together and stayed silent. They were so close, we'd be discovered in seconds… Closing my eyes, I waited for the protection of the Elvish cloak to be stripped away, and for the pain of capture._

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Panting and gasping, I woke up. The fire had gone low, and my friends were all asleep around me. It was night still, but I sensed innately that dawn would come soon.

That was no dream. It couldn't have been! This was the most realistic dream I'd had so far, and the sense of fear and danger had been so… well, real. It was like I'd _been_ there, with Frodo and Sam, facing the same dangers that they were facing. The soldiers… I'd never have conjured them up from my imagination or subconscious, no way. Gulping in deep breaths of cool air, I realized that I was still shaking, and that someone had draped a blanket over me as I'd slept, so now I was too hot, for sweat dampened my fur in a most uncomfortable way.

I shook off the blanket and crawled slightly away from the fire, but was reluctant to go too far from my friends. I watched them as they slept – Aragorn was an unrecognizable heap beneath his blankets, and Gimli was snoring, loud rattling snorts that shook the night. It brought a tentative smile to my face – had an enemy chanced upon us, they would have no trouble finding our camp, that was for sure. Legolas was sleeping by Aragorn, eyes open and unfocused in the Elven style of sleep.

Eh? But where was Gandalf?

With some searching, I found the Wizard sitting on a log near the edge of camp, staff in hand as he watched the horizon for dawn. I joined him without a sound, moving to lie down near the log. Gandalf looked down at me, and gave me a gentle smile.

"Still having dreams, Lady?" he asked me, eyes intent on my face. I sighed, nodding.

Gandalf said no more, but there was something about his very presence that chased away the last of the terrors of the dream. We sat there, welcoming the dawn together, until our companions woke at last. Only then did Gandalf get to his feet, and I followed him back to where the others were waiting.

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We traveled for another day, and as I ran, I found that I had time to think over a few things. The dreams, for one, which I was beginning to suspect were not truly dreams. Somehow, some way, I was seeing Sam and Frodo in my mind's eye, seeing and experiencing through my dreams things that were happening to them in real-time. And the only connection I could think of that could be causing this: the Stone of Reliability, my gift to Sam. It could be no coincidence that when I dreamed of Frodo, he called me by the other hobbit's name. Sam was there all right with his master – and my dreams seemed either to be from his point of view…or the Stone's, perhaps.

The Voice hadn't mentioned anything about this, but then, she hadn't told me much of anything really, merely that I would know what to do when the time came. I didn't like this at all – I was confused, scared and tired, and I just wanted to be able to close my eyes and not have to worry about my dreams.

But I could not control the Stones. I did not dictate when they should shine, or when and how they should react to different circumstances. Heck, I didn't even know if they _could _be controlled, or were a power all their own. I just didn't know anymore, and I couldn't exactly ask anyone.

Stumbling over a rock had me snapping my head up, taking notice of my surroundings. Gandalf had slowed Shadowfax a little, and now I followed his gaze to where a city sat on a hill ahead of us. More time must have passed during my musings than I'd realized, for we'd arrived without me even realizing how far we'd come.

"Edoras," Gandalf said, gaze turned to the city. "And the Golden Hall of Meduseld. There dwells Théoden, King of Rohan, whose mind is overthrown. Saruman's hold over King Théoden is now very strong." He glanced around at us all. "Be careful what you say, and do not look for welcome here."

My ears went flat against my head. That didn't sound too good. But surely if there was any danger, Gandalf and my friends would say so. Dragging my weary paws, I put my trust in the Wizard and my friends and trudged after the horses as we entered the city of Edoras.

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I kept close to my companions as we moved through the city, forgoing my fear of the horses' great hoofs in favor of gaining some protection, however small, from the stares of the people of Edoras. Never had I seen or heard such somber silence in a city, where the people were all dressed in black and regarded us with unfriendly stares and muttered conversations about the strangers who had entered their midst. Gandalf did not pause, riding Shadowfax past the homes and buildings without any apparent concern for the people of the town who watched us with wariness and suspicion. The Wizard had been right about not looking for welcome here.

The stares were doubly suspicious for me, and I did not need Aragorn to bend down and whisper for me to stay close. I was already so close to Hasufel that the chestnut gelding was starting to crabwalk nervously in the other direction, but a murmured word from Aragorn had him behaving once again. Legolas also drew stares, for there was no mistaking his race due to the pointed ears that stuck out like a sore thumb amongst all these round-eared Men. The Elf rode with head held high, following Gandalf's example and keeping his gaze on the road ahead of him. Gimli though, was giving back as good as he got, matching stare for stare until the people either looked away or blinked in defeat.

"You'll find more cheer in a graveyard," he mumbled to no one in particular, using his outspoken version of a whisper.

A lady, dressed in white, stood upon the top landing of the largest building, where Gandalf led us. Men came to take Shadowfax and the horses, and the Wizard took his staff and began to ascend the steps to the hall. When I looked up again, the lady had disappeared, and in her place were guards, just exiting the hall to meet us.

Gandalf had clearly been expecting them, for he merely uttered a quick "Ah," when he saw the men, and nodded to the one in the lead. "Greetings, Háma."

Háma was apparently the one in charge, and he looked uncomfortably at Gandalf as the Wizard called him by name. Clearing his throat, he said, "I cannot allow you before Théoden–King so armed, Gandalf Grayhame. By order of Grima Wormtongue."

Even the sharpest ears might not have detected the slight distaste with which he said the name, and the sharpest eyes might not have seen the slight twitch of his lips that signaled barely contained dislike. But I did not miss either, nor the scent of helpless anger which I caught coming from the Man of Rohan, and to their credit, neither did my friends. Gandalf did not call him on it, though, and merely nodded to Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli each, signaling for them to obey.

Gimli scowled, reluctantly handing over the four axes he had strapped to his person – his standard utility axe, his walking axe, his throwing axe, and the battle axe that he'd taken from Balin's tomb - and Legolas passed his longbow and knives to one of Háma's men. Aragorn and Gandalf removed their swords, and Aragorn withdrew the long dagger that Celeborn had given to him, passing the gleaming steel over without a word.

Háma nodded sternly to the Wizard. "Your staff."

"Hmm?" Gandalf frowned innocently. "Oh. You would not part an old man from his walking stick."

I fought back a snort. If Gandalf needed a "_walking stick_", I was a squirrel.

The doorwarden hesitated, but only for a moment before he stepped back to let us through. I raised a surprised eyebrow – all of a sudden, Gandalf was slumping slightly, as though he'd suddenly become as fragile as glass, and was leaning on Legolas' arm as though he needed help walking. He winked at Aragorn and me as he slowly stumbled past us.

Hm. The sneaky old Wizard. Smiling to myself, I began padding alongside Aragorn.

And then, Háma noticed me.

"Wolf!" he exclaimed, giving a start and jerking away. And before I knew it, there were sharp, pointy objects aimed at my throat. I froze.

"Hold!" Aragorn slid himself between me and the tip of a spear, while Legolas had to restrain Gimli from attacking the men who were threatening me. He had the Dwarf in a loose headlock, and Gimli was sputtering angrily, trying to struggle free.

Gandalf turned. He sent me an apologetic glance, then said to Háma: "The wolf is harmless. She will do no harm, and I can vouch for her personally. In fact, if you will allow her to enter with us, I will tie a rope to her collar so that you can be assured that she will be no threat."

Háma frowned. "Gandalf, you cannot think me fool enough to agree to allow a _wolf_ into an audience with my King, even leashed or restrained. No, if she enters, then she will be leashed _and_ muzzled."

Muzzled? I whimpered, eyes wide. _Muzzled?_ I sent Gandalf a pleading glance.

The Wizard sighed. "I don't have the time for this… Lady?" He looked to me. "I take it the muzzle is out of the question?"

They wanted to _muzzle _me?

Gandalf sighed.

"The other option that I will allow is for her to be leashed outside the hall, to wait for you," Háma said, firmly.

Gandalf looked like he was fighting off a headache. I sighed. Catching the Wizard's eye, I took pity on him. Bad enough that this whole mess was hindering his efforts to help Rohan, and it was caused by me. It would be selfish of me to make more trouble for him. Swallowing my pride, I moved to Aragorn's pack, tugged it open, removed the rope from inside, and moved to sit by one of the magnificent pillars that stood by the entrance.

Better to be tied up than muzzled, in my book, and the wolf thought so, too. Even so, it took effort for me not to look as pitiful as I felt, as Aragorn gently tied me to the post. The Ranger studied me, then surprised me with a sudden hug before he rose to join our friends.

"We'll be back for you, Lady," he promised quietly, and I felt something inside me shift with emotion at the glow of Friendship and loyalty that I saw in those gray eyes. He sent a stern expression to the guards at the door. "If any harm comes to my friend, you will regret it."

They gulped and swallowed. "No harm will come to her unless she harms us first," said one, defensively, and Aragorn nodded.

"Fair enough." He sent me one final nod and smile, and moved to the other side of Gandalf.

The last I saw of them, they had disappeared into the hall, and the wooden doors closed behind them with a quiet finality. Laying my head on my paws, I ignored the door-guards who were watching me warily, and settled down to wait.

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Ah, you all know the drill. Drop a review and let me know if you're all still here, eh? :) Tell me what you think!

I've sent the rest of Wolflight to FairOphelia for betaing. Remember though, we all have RL to keep us busy - and I have youth camp this Friday-Sunday, so hopefully that will be fun. :)

Thanks everyone! Take care and God bless!

RK9.


	21. Funeral of a Hero, and New Arrivals

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything except Lady and the Stones. The rest is the work of Master Tolkien... I wish I could claim to have created such genius, but I can't...

**Author's notes:** Hi everyone! Now, why am I updating before the promised 23rd Sept date? Because FairOphelia replied my email and gave me the green light to post! Yay! Thank her and give her cookies, everyone! :) Chapter 5 and 6 will go up today, and then I go to study for my business paper tomorrow. You should all be really grateful she responded at last - cause it turns out that on Sept 23rd I have something on, so likely I wouldn't have been able to update as promised... yeah. Yay for FairOphelia!

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**Chapter 5**

Once the great wooden doors had closed, I could hear and see no more of my friends – the thick wood blocked all sounds from inside, and the most my wolf hearing could catch were muffled noises and voices speaking within. After a while, I stopped trying and resigned myself to waiting patiently, twiddling my thumbs (well, I would have if I'd had any) and yawning every few moments.

The guards were mostly ignoring me now, except to throw a wary glance my way every few minutes. I gave them the courtesy of ignoring them in return, turning my attention instead to the small crowd who had gathered at the foot of the steps to stare curiously at me. Snatches of conversation floated up to me, and it was through the rather garbled mutterings I could hear that I learned the thoughts of the humans of this city. Although the people of Edoras rarely, if ever, encountered wolves on their sun-dappled plains, they knew – or thought they knew – enough to say that I had to be more "evil and vicious than Sauron himself". And if I hadn't been wearing my collar, they'd have killed me or driven me out by now. Apparently the collar showed that I was "tamed", important to someone, whoever it was that "owned" me – though what manner of strange folk would want to keep a tame wolf around, they didn't know… and were curious to find out. I wasn't sure what to make of all this – I was used to being hated and stared at with suspicion, and worse thoughts had been thrown my way before, but the fact that they apparently thought of me as some sort of 'pet' really rankled my fur. Oh well. They hadn't attacked yet, or tried to chase me away with pitchforks and torches – that had to be a good sign.

As the mutterings died down into suspicious stares, I was able to take a blessedly dream-free nap, though it was more like dozing since I was more-or-less in between wakefulness and sleep. Then, as the sun left its noon-time position above us, there was a great crash from inside the hall, and I leapt to my feet, instantly alert – a little groggy, maybe, but still alert. The guards shifted nervously, seeming uncertain about whether to leave their posts and rush inside to see what had happened, or whether to just wait for orders.

Me, I'd just gotten antsy enough to start tugging at the rope in an attempt to loosen it, when suddenly the great wooden doors were flung open with a resounding bang, and a pale, terrified man who smelt like worm was thrown out of the hall on his rear. He didn't stop there though, tumbling headlong down the first flight of stairs to land on the small landing below, where the second flight led down towards the right. Low whines issued from his throat, and he was followed by a furious, golden-haired man wearing royal robes and a crown, lots of guards, and my friends. Legolas moved to untie me when he saw me straining at the rope, which did not reach far enough for me to see what was happening down on that second landing.

"Peace, Lady!" he whispered to me, swiftly but unsuccessfully trying to undo the Ranger's knots from my collar. "That is King Théoden, who was under the control of Saruman, and the miserable creature whom he has just thrown out of his hall is Gríma Wormtongue, Saruman's puppet, who undoubtedly had a hand in the King's enslavement. But Gandalf has revealed himself to Saruman and all of Rohan, he has freed the King and overthrown Saruman from Théoden-King's mind; so all will be well now."

"Here, Legolas," rumbled Gimli, who had noticed his friend's increasingly frustrated attempts to undo my bonds. It would seem that part of being a Ranger included having the ability to create knots that could not be easily undone by even nimble Elven fingers. The Dwarf sent me a deceptively innocent grin and padded over. "Allow me to help you. You see, this problem requires delicacy, patience, and a _subtle_ touch."

He caught up one of his axes from where they lay forgotten near the guards' post, lifted it high, and brought it down on the rope with a loud bellow of satisfaction and a crash that was certain to leave quite a mark on the floor. I'd swear the tip of his blade missed my body by mere inches. Eyes wide, it took me a moment to realize that I was free, slightly mesmerized by the smug expression on Gimli's face as he surveyed his work. I thanked him and Legolas with hasty nuzzle-licks before scooting forward to stand by Gandalf and the guards and look below at where the action was unfolding.

The black-clad snake was just rising, crawling backwards as Théoden approached, a threatening glare on his face. Hissing and groveling, he whined to the King: "I've only, ever served _you_, my lord!"

Sword firmly in hand, the man I now knew to be Théoden-King was having none of it. "Your leechcraft," he bellowed, "Would have had me crawling on all fours like a beast!"

"Send me not from your sight!" cried Gríma, continuing his desperate, backwards slither down the steps.

Théoden's only reply was to lift his sword high above his head. I couldn't see his face, but I imagined that surely there would be rage there in his expression.

Faster than an arrow from Legolas' bow, Aragorn slipped down from the upper landing, away from the lady in white who stood by his side, and moved to catch hold of Théoden's sword arm, holding him back from bringing it down on Gríma.

"No, my lord!" He glanced down at Gríma, then back at the King. "No, my lord," he repeated. "Let him go. Enough blood has been spilt on his account."

Looking down at Gríma again, he extended his hand to help him to his feet, but the King's former advisor spat at the offered grip, staggered to his feet, and shoved his way rudely through the crowd.

I growled, furious at the snake's ungracious reaction to my friend's kindness, but Aragorn glanced up at me and shook his head slightly. "It's all right, Lady," he called up to me, his expression calm.

"Let him go!" Théoden frowned at the sight of me, but held out his hand to stop his guards from following Gríma. "Let him have whatever horse will bear him, so long as he leaves here and never returns."

His men paused, and that was when Háma cried out: "Hail, Théoden-King!" And such was the mingled joy and reverence in his voice that others took up the shout, and the crowd knelt in homage to the King of the Golden Hall. Théoden looked around silently, yet with much emotion in his gaze. Not many noticed as Gríma rode out the gates, and I suspect not many would have cared. Even Aragorn knelt, bending on one knee before the King, and so I followed my friend's example, lowering myself to the ground in a bow that I think impressed all those who saw me, although capturing the hearts of the people of Rohan was certainly not my intent. Enslaved he might have been, and nearly defeated but for Gandalf's intervention, but Théoden was still a King and he deserved the respect.

Slowly, Théoden nodded to his people, and turned. A frown made its way over his face, as though he had only just realized that something was missing. Looking at Aragorn, then at his men, he asked: "Where is Théodred? Where is my son?"

A silence greeted him, and when I looked to Gandalf and the King's men, I suddenly guessed at the true reason that the people of Edoras were all clad in black.

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A fire burned in the grate as we all settled down in the main room of Meduseld, where the King usually conferred with his men and court – at least, he had done so prior to Gríma's treachery. Introductions were made quickly, and I learned that the fair lady who was dressed in white was the Lady Éowyn, Théoden's niece. The King was initially wary of me, but when Gandalf vouched for me and told him that I was not truly a wolf, but a woman caught in a wolf's body, he relaxed, accepting the Wizard's word.

It seemed that recently, the King's son had passed on due to numerous wounds obtained in a battle at the fords of Isen, and the King had been unaware and apathetic under the control of Saruman's spell. Now ridden with guilt, Théoden had given orders for the funeral preparations to begin straightaway.

"Théodred shall be buried in the halls of my fathers this very evening," he declared, and excused himself to go and see his son's body for one final time.

"Of course, uncle," said Éowyn gently, and she stood, excusing herself as well so that she could bring her uncle to where her cousin's body lay. The King of Rohan was still slightly weakened by his long ordeal under the thumb of the other White Wizard, and he leaned on his niece as they left the room.

"I'll be back to show you to your rooms, later," Éowyn promised us, and Gandalf nodded and waved her away, saying that such arrangements could easily be taken care of later.

Almost as soon as the door was shut, the Wizard let out a long, slow, breath. He turned to us, his eyes landing on me at long last.

"One obstacle has been overcome, but Rohan has some ways to go before healing can begin," he sighed. "Lady, it would help if you could share with us the some of the Hope that you now carry around your neck, but then again I don't suppose that the Stones can be controlled by you as of yet?"

Somehow, it didn't surprise me all that much that the Wizard knew about the Stone of Hope. I looked at the Wizard and shrugged. Not that I wouldn't love to share Hope, but I did not know how, and the Stone would not glow. That inner sense that sometimes directed me to new uses of the Stones was strangely silent as well.

I should have seen it coming. I should have known. But I was tired both physically and spiritually, and I wanted to rest.

But first, we attended Théodred's funeral.

I observed the Rohirric funeral rites with interest; for it was the first time I'd experienced a funeral outside of my hometown. Théodred's body was cleansed, and set on a long wooden board that was borne outside the hall by six men, who then bore it all the way to the hills outside the city where all the Kings of Rohan were buried. Théoden-King, Gandalf, Aragorn, Gimli, Legolas and I followed behind, and finally the people of Edoras all turned out to follow the procession, all mourning and paying their last respects to the son of their King. Though they were truly overjoyed to have their King back, the loss of their beloved King's heir was not forgotten, and I was awed indeed by the love of the people for their monarch and his family.

No one protested my being there now. I was with the four strangers who had saved their King, and Théoden himself allowed me to walk beside him in the procession, and that was all the people needed to know, their initial suspicion and mistrust eased due to their faith in the man who led them.

Éowyn and the women of Rohan were waiting by the burial mound. Aragorn gently signaled for me to step back, and I did so, watching avidly but respectfully as Théodred's body was given to the women, who bore him into the tomb. With tears falling like rain down her cheeks, Éowyn burst into a sort of song-chant; a lament for her departed cousin, and all listened to her slightly-trembling, grief-filled voice in silence. When at last she finished, the sun was low in the sky, and the tomb's doors were shut in a finalizing gesture. It was done, and Théodred was laid to rest… a hero sent home.

Still, the crowd did not leave all at once. Most stood in respectful silence for a while longer, only leaving in small groups one after the other as the evening drew closer to night. After a while, Aragorn placed his hand on Legolas' shoulder, and nodded for me and Gimli to walk away from the tomb as well. Gandalf did not move, and I realized that he wanted to linger a while more. He and the King would be the last to leave, it seemed, and so I padded after my friends, tiredness catching up to me at long last. I'd forgotten about it, caught up in observing the Rohirric funeral.

Upon our return to the hall, Éowyn kept her promise about rooms, showing us to two in the family wing, a great honor indeed. Gimli and Legolas agreed to share one room, and it was a testament to how far we had come, really. Had this occurred a month or so ago, the two would have probably had to be housed in separate buildings, never mind separate rooms, but now the two were more than willing to sleep together in one room.

"We have no lodgings as grand as the ones in your Elven homes must be, nor any as comfortable as those in your Dwarven cities," she apologized to first Legolas, then Gimli with a regretful smile. "Still, I hope these will do for you."

"We have been sleeping on earth and grass," Legolas assured her. "As long as there are beds, this is more than adequate, my lady, and we are grateful indeed." He bowed his fair head, eliciting a slow smile from her.

"I'll share a room with Gandalf and Lady, then," Aragorn said. He glanced at me. "You do not mind, Lady?"

Mind? Considering that I could have been left to sleep outside with the dogs or something, but was instead being allowed to sleep inside with my friends... of course I didn't mind! Grinning at him, I wagged my tail and shook my head enthusiastically.

Éowyn smiled shyly at me. "I'll go and see about dinner for you all," she promised. "Would you like to take it in your rooms, or in the hall later, with the King?"

We all looked at Aragorn, who answered, "In the hall, thank you, my lady. I believe that we still have matters to discuss with the King and with Gandalf."

I pawed at his leg impatiently, and he glanced down at me in surprise, before his eyes widened and he looked at Éowyn, who had nodded and was about to leave for the kitchens. "Oh. My lady?"

She turned back to us. "Yes?"

With a perfectly serious face, he informed her: "Lady would like me to remind you that she prefers meat for dinner, preferably still raw, and she would be most obliged if you did not use wine or other alcoholic beverages as marinades, because those wreak havoc with her current digestive system. I do hope this won't be a problem."

She laughed softly, the hint of a blush on her cheeks as she grinned at Aragorn, such a faint pink that I thought I'd imagined it with my not-so-trustworthy wolf vision. "Of course not," she answered. "How does she feel about bones? We have several meat-bones for our dogs that might be to her liking…"

I nodded eagerly, and Aragorn translated: "I rather believe that she enjoys them very much indeed, my lady."

With a smile, the King's niece laughed once more, and turned again on her errand, leaving the four of us to settle down for a brief rest.

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I could not sleep, though Aragorn managed to catch a quick before-dinner nap in our room before we were summoned to the hall by a servant for the evening meal. Fear gripped me every time I closed my eyes, and in the end I just watched Aragorn as he slept, feeling my exhaustion stripping me of my good spirits, until the time came for us to walk to the hall with Gimli and Legolas. Gandalf and the King were not there yet, but Éowyn assured us that her uncle would not mind if we started first. He had told her so as he'd known that he would be staying at his son's grave for quite a while.

We waited anyway, though the Dwarf's tummy rumbled with displeasure at being so near to succulent foods, yet so far from being filled. There was quite a feast on the table, roast chicken and beef stew, along with mashed potatoes, a garden-fresh salad and good wine – malt beer for Gimli, though, in a large tankard as per the Dwarf's request. It was a simple fare, as Éowyn apologized to us, but after days with nothing but _lembas_ bread and water, I'd say it looked a feast to my friends. For me, I was given a bowl filled with chopped up bits of raw steak and one large meat bone. Éowyn apologized, saying she would have put it on the table, but it smelled more than slightly offensive and so she had placed it underneath. I didn't mind – I was too tired to mind much of anything, really.

It was ridiculous, if I thought about it. I knew it was ridiculous. They were just dreams! Just dreams… yet each time, they filled me with near-paralyzing terror and prevented me from getting any true rest. And always, in each dream, the Great Eye watched me, waiting… and the wolf would answer each of his calls.

Shivering, I nibbled on some of the meat in my bowl. I felt cold – was the fire getting low? Pressing against the Ranger's booted leg helped, as did the hand that descended to rub along my neck, and I sighed.

Then, the doors of the hall were thrown open, and Gandalf and Théoden entered, with a few men of Rohan. The King was leading a small girl by the hand, supporting her each time she stumbled, and behind him, the Wizard bore a young boy no older than twelve summers in his arms. We all stood, stunned and surprised. It looked like dinner would have to wait.

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**Review responses from Chapter 4 of Wolflight (from the author's note that was here before, in case some haven't seen their response):**

**MerrytheHobbit - **Good to hear that you're still enjoying it! Thanks, and I hope to update soon!

**Mish** - No, Lady gave Sam the Stone of Reliability, but not her whole necklace. So she's really been given five Stones, but only has four with her : Courage, Kindness, Friendship, Reliability, and Hope. And yes - I can't forget that she's a wolf, though there are some parts where I look at what I wrote and feel that they don't treat her enough like a wolf... but then again, you'll see why later in Wolflight. Hope you'll stick around for it!

**pixie freak** - The Elven words I used earlier in Lorien for Galadriel's and Aragorn's discussion were from a website of Sindarin phrases that I've found very useful. The rest are from the movie transcript, of which I always keep a copy open when I'm writing this. The new Stone doesn't exactly allow her to see Frodo/Sam... I'll explain later in Wolflight. You'll see. ;) Thanks for reviewing!

**JediMasterMiraxHorn** - Thanks! I hope to have it up ASAP, but if not, then by Sept 23rd my time. Absolutely. :) Thanks for reviewing!

**Rushingriver** - Yup, I loved youth camp! Totally rocked. But I loved your review just as much, cause it rocked my world too! Thanks! I'll update soon!

**Duvet** - I'm so glad you're enjoying this. I hope to have the next part up soon. :)

**Memory Bleeds** - Hey, thanks. Yes, I felt that in order to stay realistic, with Lady being who she is, I had to keep her outside. The Rohirrim were going through a dark time in their lives... I doubt they'd have been so trusting of a wolf, given the creature's history in Middle-earth. Do keep reading - I missed ya!

**bookworm2011** - Yes, I did keep you waiting for that, didn't I? I'm in the middle of Wolfsong now, the third part... no, more near the beginning, but it's progressing slowly. Keep an eye out!

**Claire** - Why, thank you. Glad you're enjoying it. I'll try hard to get you more soon. :)

**Kaisaan** - (grabs and hugs) Oh, you! You replied so fast - I had no idea you were even online! Sorry - the Wolflight prologue wasn't what I meant to upload! I clicked on the wrong document when I tried to put up my AN, and then I had to change it but on dial-up it was excruciatingly slow... But it shows you're still here with me, so it's all good I guess - thanks!

Regarding the review you gave for Chapter 20 - Yes, the first word is "The". LOL. I gave you all the vowels already, so... I'm glad you missed me! It may be weird but it's nice to be missed! I want chapter 5 up here for you all too! I'll try!

**Maria** - Yes, I wonder how different it'll be when she can talk too... If I ever finish this and write a sequel like I'm planning to, I'm going to stay by my heart and go realistic. If she changes back, then it won't be the usual Mary-Sue kind of "entire-Fellowship-falls-madly-in-love-with-her-at-first-sight". She's going to get a lot less desirable first, and weirder... and then we'll just see if she deserves to fall in love with, say, Legolas. I'm not too sure I want her to end in a Legomance... but we'll see. Thanks for your review... hope you'll stick around till Chapter 5. :)

**Temeti** - My brother mentioned that too... but it's in the movie, it has to be written and there's only so much I can do to change it. She's living through it - I'm not going to rewrite Tolkien's entire tale, going that far AU just doesn't sit well with me. As it is, I can only hope to bring you through this story for the umpteenth time in a way you'll enjoy, like rewatching the movies again after a long lull from the last time you watched it. So... yeah. Glad you're still here - do stick around!

**gERMaNgIrL678** - LOL, thanks! Glad you like it! I will keep writing... don't worry! Got a lot planned for Lady and I intend to see her through to whatever her end will be. :) Thankies!

**sparkalie - **Hehe, well, Wolflight is actually done. Just waiting on my beta... thanks for reviewing, hope you bear with me!

**Tintanie** - Thanks! I'm glad you and so many others think it's different... I never thought much of it when I drafted it out years ago, and I lost inspiration pretty quickly. But then again, I suppose it's a good thing I didn't write it back then. My writing style when I was younger was... rather cringe-worthy, actually. I hope I continue to do this justice. :) Stick with me, please?

**Yellow-Fluffy-Monster** - I missed my yellow fluffy monster! I wondered why I hadn't been hearing from you! :) Sorry you had to get back to a lack of updating... hope you're still here when I post the next bit!

**Black Wolf-Dog - **I think I already replied to you... if not - nice try! But no, it's not the Silimon Jewels... did you mean Silmarillion? No, I never managed to finish reading that book... I'll give a hint - the vowels are all provided, and the first word is "The". And one of the letters in the second word of your guess is correct "m".

**conoe** - Haha, I won't stop! Thanks!

**Shadow Traveler** - Thanks! It's a little different from my first draft of it... but I'm glad I'm doing it well now. I want to make this fic the best it can be! I hope you're still around when I get back with chapter 5!

**choirbandgeek** - Thank you! Sorry, it's updated but I can't post the next chapter yet... I will though, I know it's been too long a wait. Hope nothing keeps me from posting this on the 23rd!

**ladykind** - May the muse be with you as well! Thank you for reviewing!

**Inspired Butterfly** - I was really tickled and pleased when I returned to find that I'd gone up in reviews by about 9 or 10 posts! Wow - you really like this, huh? Thanks so much! Sorry I don't have time to respond to all of them - and thanks for finding out those errors! I couldn't fix them all, but someday I'll go back and repost them, cause I noticed them too. Thanks!

**Haruka Shinigami** - LOL... and after Fellowship, are you going to read The Two Towers? That's the work of the master himself - I'll never match Mr Tolkien's work, but I hope I do his world justice! Thanks for reviewing - hope you continue to enjoy. :)

**Yuffie Sensei** - Thanks! I hope you'll bear with me! :)

**OneAndOnlyLove** - Yup! No wolf/dog likes to be muzzled - I see it in my own dogs all the time! Even holding their jaws shut with both hands really makes them upset and frantic and they panic - I think it's a canine thing. After all, their fangs are their only means of defense, a dog who can't bite can't protect itself. Lady would have gone mad with one on, and she knew it, which is why I had her refuse the muzzle - it would have meant more trouble than they needed while in Rohan! Glad you like - hope you stick around for more!

**dansa** - Thanks - I'll need all the luck I can get. I have this sinking feeling, though, that I'm going to fail - just economics and business left, and those are awful! Well... thanks for the review! Nah - it's been long enough since chapter 5. My personality is such that I believe it's wrong of me to keep you all waiting anymore, since I myself hate writers that write a fic halfway then leave people hanging. I'll get chapter 5 up - I will! Cause I love you guys - (hugs) Thanks for the review and for sticking around so long!

**Gixie** - Gosh, I hope I manage to keep it interesting too! I've been having some museless moments, especially with all the studying I have to do... but I'm almost back on track, and I have lots of plans for Lady and everyone. I hope I don't mess up the quality for you.. do bear with me! :) Thanks for reviewing!

RK9.


	22. The Fall

**Review responses:**

**sandcat** - Thanks, I'm glad you enjoyed it. Heh... didn't have to wait all that long in the end, eh? :) Hope you're still enjoying!

**Rebunanta** - Thank you so much. You know, I think you're the first to notice (or at least comment on) the symbolism. Heh. Hope it wasn't too hard to see... But I don't quite understand what you mean by conflicts... is that a good thing? Anyway, thanks for the review!

**Kaisaan** - AN is short form for "author's note". Heh, I'm sorry - I didn't have much time, so I thought I'd skimp and use AN instead of typing everything out... No, I can't see when you're online, not even for certified members... which is so sad! But then, with the traffic Fanfiction dot net gets, I guess showing everyone who's online at a particular time would be kinda taxing on the servers or something... and we're all here to read fanfiction, anyway, not chat or interact. And yay, that's now 9 votes for Lady to change back... I know I said that it wouldn't affect my decision, but it might inspire me to change it a little... we'll see. Keep reading, eh?

And thanks to **Yellow-Fluffy-Monster**, **Potcfanforever**, **Rushingriver**, **Inspired.Butterfly**, and **Temeti** for your reviews - sorry I couldn't reply personally, but I have to study and my mom wants to use my computer... well, hope you all enjoyed these two chapters and that the quality didn't go down... Trust me, I rewrote them several times while waiting for FairOphelia to get back to me with what I'd sent her... so yeah. These chapters are kinda important yo me... especially this one. I hope I wrote them right... Concrit, please!

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**Chapter 6**

It turned out that the children had appeared on the hillside near the burial mounds, and Gandalf had spotted them just as the exhausted boy fell off his horse. Éothain, his name was, and his sister was Freda. They had ridden all day from a village in the Westfold, and the story they told was a terrible one of slaughter, blood, and death.

At least, Éothain told us his story, once he had revived and had gotten some food in him. Freda was too young to understand why she and her brother had been sent in haste to Edoras by their mother, and that was really her only concern, for she asked Éowyn - their self-appointed caretaker - where her mother was several times. Each time, the White Lady of Rohan would comfort her with soothing words and effectively distract her with food or other topics. I thought I knew why – it was likely that her mother was no longer alive, but Éowyn would not confirm this one way or another because there was the faintest of hopes that she lived still, and would be able to escape with the other survivors, and find her children once more.

"They had no warning. They were unarmed. Now the Wildmen are moving through the Westfold, burning as they go. Rick, cot and tree." The lady repeated Éothain's story to the King, who was slumped on his throne with one hand supporting his head. He looked weary of life, and I felt sorry for him. Here he was barely over Saruman's spell-slavery and his son's burial, and more bad news had to come. It had to feel like the old saying that had been used widely in my mother's village: 'Fall down, then get hit with a ladder,' which basically meant that someone's luck just kept getting worse and worse…

Gandalf sat by the right side of the throne, and I couldn't help but think it somewhat ironic that he now occupied the seat that Wormtongue once had. Leaning towards the King, he said, "This is but a taste of the terror that Saruman will unleash. All the more potent for he is driven now by fear of Sauron. Ride out and meet him head on. Draw him away from your women and children." He placed a hand on the throne, which Théoden eyed rather warily. If Gandalf noticed, he showed nothing of it, an expression of worry and urgency on his face as he half-pleaded with the King, saying: "You must fight."

From the table where he was now enjoying an after-meal pipe, Aragorn commented, "You have two thousand good men riding north as we speak. Éomer is loyal to you. His men will return and fight for their King."

Théoden got abruptly out of his throne and began to pace. Gnawing on my bone, from which I had long since stripped the meat, I eyed his steps – he was agitated, stressed, worried. And he had every right to be. Tiredly he raised his head to respond to Aragorn.

"They will be three hundred leagues from here by now. Éomer cannot help us. I know what it is that you want of me. But I will not bring further death to my people. I will not risk open war."

Aragorn carefully removed his pipe from his mouth. Regarding the King, he stated clearly: "Open war is upon you, whether you would risk it or not."

Théoden stopped pacing completely. His expression hardened, and he turned to give Aragorn a cool stare. "When last I checked, Théoden, not Aragorn, was King of Rohan."

Gimli burped, unexpectedly loud in the ensuing silence as Aragorn nodded his head respectfully to the King. From the throne, Gandalf got to his feet as well.

"Then what is the King's decision?" the Wizard asked simply, in what seemed to also be an attempt to pacify.

There was only silence, before Théoden looked up again. Tiredly, he said only a few words, but they seemed to be words that Gandalf had not been hoping to hear.

"We shall take refuge in Helm's Deep."

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It was late when I finally got Aragorn to accompany me back to the room we were sharing. Not that I couldn't have found my own way back while Gandalf and the others were in conference with the King and his leading men, but I needed someone to open the door for me, and Aragorn had volunteered to come with me and help once I'd done a little miming and acting to get him to see my problem. I'd have stayed on, but the discussion was a little beyond me, not to mention that I couldn't contribute even if I had something to say, and anyway, I was tired, tired enough to risk even the most fearsome dreams.

Aragorn pulled open the wooden door with an ease that made me miss my own thumb, and I thanked him with a soft whine-nuzzle. He smiled a little, and to my surprise, accompanied me inside.

"I'll stay with you until you fall asleep, Lady," he told me chivalrously. "I know you've been having nightmares a lot recently – and Legolas told me they're troubling you."

I raised an eyebrow at him. I wouldn't say no to the company, but me falling asleep might take a while.

Aragorn moved to lie down on his bed, leaving the other for Gandalf. I settled down on the floor, where a pile of rugs had been clearly prepared for me. Burying my nose in the fabric, I listened as Aragorn's breathing slowly evened out into sleep – the Ranger must have been pretty tired as well.

I was sleepy too, but my eyes were wide open. I didn't have the courage even to close them by now, and even awake I was starting to see the Great Eye in my mind's eye. In the darkness of the room, I suddenly began to see shadows everywhere, and though my wolf senses told me that I was alone with Aragorn, my mind was jittery and nervous. All the tales of horror that I'd ever read or been told in my lifetime began to come back to haunt me, and my fur started to fluff out and stand on end.

Oh, for the Ranger's courage! I was weak, why else would I fear mere dreams?

_Courage?_ A thought flitted across my mind, and my heart began to pound as I reached a paw up to my collar, where the Stone of Courage lay embedded in its place.

Could I? Could I draw on the Courage within the Stone, to help me to sleep?

My heart told me it wasn't a good idea, somehow, but almost at once my head came up with half a dozen other reasons why it should not matter, why it was a logical and viable option.

It would be simple enough to try, and I was so tired…

Touching the Stone, I felt the heat of Courage seeping into me. Closing my eyes, I concentrated fiercely on drawing it out and into me…

Something was wrong. Pain shot up my paw, and I wrenched it away with a yelp of agony that woke Aragorn. Light poured from the Stone, orange light – but no. It wasn't the usual warm orange glow, but was instead a fierce, pulsing shade that was tinged with murky purple – in short, like a corrupted version of the glow of Courage. Aragorn shot upright, and his eyes gazed at me in startled horror. Reeling backwards, I gave in to the clutches of darkness, and let go.

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_The dreamscape was a roar of noise and activity from the moment I fell into it. The forest held no warmth for me, it was cold and dark and dreary, and the world seemed gray. The shrieks and cries of strange animals filled my ears to an earsplitting pitch, and I crumpled to the ground, whimpers of pain escaping me. _

_**- What have you done? -**_

_The Voice. She sounded saddened, and I got the feeling that I had let her down terribly. _

_**- What have you done, little one? The light of Courage, used like a drug to ease personal suffering? Used for your own selfish reasons, when all the time your heart knew that you had the power inside to chase away the dark dreams all on your own? - **_

_I what? _

_**- Yes, you knew this. The Stone tried to warn you, but now your reckless, desperate act has corrupted its glow. It is weakened, and so are you… little one, why did you give in to the temptation of the shadows? The dreams have been bad, yes, but had you given yourself time you would have realized that there was truly nothing to fear. The dreams would have stopped the moment you learned that they came not only from the Stones, but from your own heart, and as the Stonebearer, you have the power to keep them at bay until you decide you need them... Oh, little one. I had hoped that you would have learned, and then… -**_

_She paused suddenly mid-sentence, and I felt a creeping chill shooting down my back. _

What is it? What?_ I threw the thoughts out desperately. Guilt and shame and anger all vied for first place in my head and heart, and there was fear also, because I knew that something was terribly, terribly wrong. _

_**- You must go back. You must go back now! And please, child, you must find the strength within you or all will be lost! Fight the shadow, little one, fight the shadow! - **_

_What was she talking about? Great. Now there was frustration too, to add to the mishmash of already overblown emotions. _

_**- The wolf! You are weakened, and she- -**_

_Something snapped, and the connection ripped apart like torn fabric. Jerked rudely from the dreamscape, I was thrown back into the light._

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My eyes opened. Aragorn was bent over me, gray eyes worried and anxious.

"Lady? Lady, are you all right?"

Sure, I was fine, I –

I couldn't move?

I'd tried to smile at him, to shake my head and tell him that I was unharmed, that I was all right. But my head wouldn't move, and neither would my mouth.

Paws! I tried to lift one, straining with every fiber of my being, but no, they wouldn't move either. Panic began to set in. What was going on?

A low growl, fierce and unknown and dangerous, rumbled from somewhere deep within my throat. The Ranger reached for me, and I snarled, head jerking forward and snapping. He withdrew quickly, and my jaws snapped shut over the space where his hand had been.

I'll never forget the hurt, bewildered look on Aragorn's face, and I'd swear my heart stopped at that very instant. He looked confused, unable to understand why I would have reacted so viciously to his offered hand of concern and assistance…

"Lady, what -"

And then I realized what had happened. What it had to be.

The wolf. She was in charge now. And I found myself pushed to a tiny space at the back of my mind, trapped and imprisoned, forced to watch as she shifted, heaving my body into a standing position, facing Aragorn with a predatory gleam in her eyes.

It was like being trapped on the inside of a mirror, caught where the reflection was supposed to be, and watching yourself from the wrong side of the glass. Completely paralyzed and helpless, I could do nothing to stop the wolf, not the way I had back at Amon Hen when she had managed to take over for a short while. I had not been weak then, and now I could feel her drawing on the power of the Stones, could see the corrupted glow of each pouring out into the room. I felt her anger, her hatred of the Ranger and my friends, and the surprisingly overwhelming desire to serve her Master. And unlike before, she now had the strength to pose a true threat.

And it was all my fault.

Aragorn had figured out that something wasn't right, too. Watching me carefully, he drew his sword.

"I don't want to hurt you, Lady," he said softly.

_Aragorn! It's not me!_

The wolf growled. Taking a step forward, she lunged and with a vicious snarl, she sank her – my – fangs deep into the flesh of Aragorn's left arm, which he'd thrown up to shield himself. He let out a yell of agony, and hurled me off, but the wolf got back up and began to circle him. Blood dripped from his arm, and I felt the wolf's heart-breaking rumble of deep satisfaction from within my own chest.

_Aragorn!_ What had I done to him? The wolf…me… argh! There was a dull, spiking ache in my chest around the area where my heart was supposed to be, and despair began to flood over me like a river, drowning me...

The door was thrown open, and light fell into the room from the torches in the hallway. Legolas and Gimli rushed in, along with Éowyn and two men of Rohan.

"Lady?" Gimli rumbled, but the Elf was looking at Aragorn's savaged arm in horror. Crying something in Elvish, he rushed to the Ranger's side. If I could have, I would have wept.

_No. No. NO! _

I cowered in my prison. Fear paralyzed me, and I knew that my friends would never trust me again. And I could not bear it. I couldn't bear it! The thought of losing them, losing their trust and friendship – it just broke my heart, stabbing it through with a burning pain. I felt I would die – the pain might only be psychological, but it felt terribly, terribly real, as though my heart was being split apart right then and there…

And the wolf wasn't finished. Baring her fangs – which made me feel sick, for they dripped with warm blood from Aragorn's arm – she attacked Gimli next, but her fangs met metal as the Dwarf swung his axe out instinctively.

"Lady!" He sounded stunned. "What in rock and stone is the matter with you?"

_**- Little one! You must fight! -**_

I crashed with Gimli to the ground.

_**- No, not with the Dwarf! Fight the shadow – fight the wolf! -**_

I was busy trying to stop the wolf from continuing her attack on Gimli but as the voice spoke, I hesitated, unable to focus. I couldn't stop her! I didn't have the strength!

The Dwarf swung wildly at me, and Legolas notched an arrow to his bow – but he hesitated.

_Shoot me!_ I screamed inwardly. I would willingly die now rather than hurt my friends any further. The betrayal – my heart would break, really it would. _Legolas, shoot me! Release your arrow! Stop me!_

_**- Fight her! The strength is still within you! Don't give up! -**_

And then the wolf saw Éowyn. Turning, she snarled at the frightened, white-faced maiden of Rohan and lunged.

Legolas released his arrow.

Miss! The piece of slender wood zipped past my ears and embedded itself in the wall with a twang and a shudder, and stayed there. But how? This close, no Elf could have missed!_ Oh, Legolas…_

One of the Rohirrim threw himself between his Lady and the wolf. His sword flashed, slicing into my shoulder, a shallow cut. Not enough. The wolf lunged at his throat –

A blinding white glow flared into my face, and my chest slammed into the end of Gandalf's staff, which swung up and towards me. I was thrown back, into the wall. The wolf was dazed, and blinded by the light. Gandalf entered the room, staff raised. He was murmuring a spell in a language I did not know, but the wolf trembled with each word. I felt her weakening…and I grabbed at the tiny pinprick of hope, charging forward and trying to wrangle back control. She fought me, but Gandalf's spell had weakened her…

She fell…

And I fell…

And blackness consumed us both.

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RK9.


	23. No Way Out

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Lord of the Rings, just Lady and the Stones. The song isn't mine either - it's No Way Out by Phil Collins. This isn't the one in the movie, it's the extended version, or single, by Phil Collins, and is just as beautiful in my humble opinion.

**Author's notes:** Hi, everyone! Here's chapter 7, while I'm having holidays and rare free time... might be a long gap till the next chapter, so enjoy it! :) For this chapter, here's something you can try - if you have Phil Collins' beautiful single version of "No Way Out" from Brother Bear, you may set it on repeat on your Windows Media Player (or whatever player you use) and play it as background music throughout the entire chapter, in order to, uh... would you believe enhance your reading experience? LOL, but seriously, I've come across several Fushigi Yuugi fics where the author prepares a fitting background soundtrack for each chapter, or at least certain parts, and usually the music helps to set a feel for the story, and it really brings out the emotions in the scenes (with exception perhaps for those who cannot concentrate on what they're reading if there's music playing in the background, like my brother/neighbor, who cannot multi-task... hehe, if you're reading, Matt, chill - it's true, isn't it?) Oh, and if you don't have the song, don't worry - you can open this link in a new tab, and play it from YouTube:

http : / / www . youtube . com / watch ? v (equals sign) l4OmsmtsTrw&feature (equals sign) related

You know the drill, just remove the spaces and insert equals signs where needed. If not, search for "brother bear no way out extended version" and it'll be the first result, a video by a user named neravaira.

Oh, and for chapter 6, many of you asked about the "Fall down, then get hit by a ladder" saying that I used... well, I didn't make it up. It's a direct translation of a Malay saying: _"Jatuh ditimpa tangga"_ (Fall down, get hit by a ladder/steps). Had to learn that and a lot of other sayings while I was growing up in primary and secondary school here... so yeah. :) I'm Malaysian, what can I say?

Many thanks to **Potcfanforever**, **Black Wolf-Dog**, **sandcat**, **Temeti**, **Starset**, **gERMaNgIrL678**, **Silvara713**, **dansa**, **Rushingriver**, **Gixie**, **fireboltcrazed**, **Haruka Shinigami**, **CheshireMax**, **SwiftWolf**, **Shadow Traveler **and **Yellow-Fluffy-Monster** for your reviews. I'm glad you're all enjoying this, and thanks for taking the time to let me know that you like Wolfheart and Wolflight. You all really make my day. :)

**Simone Lecrae** - You know, I saw the one about the girl who got turned into an orc. Thought it was original. People call this one original... I'm just kinda glad it still is, since I thought up this idea years back and only just decided to type it out and post it up now. I've added some stuff, but mostly this idea is rather... old.

Still, glad you like it. And now I've posted, and your other questions should be answered below. :) Thanks for the review!

**Alix-Jesusfreak** - Hee - Writing that part, about the "white light", was one of my favorite moments, too. Glad you liked it. And if you ever write that fic about how the quest would look through a wolf's eyes, let me know. I reckon I'd want to read it. :) Thanks for the review, and welcome to Wolfheart/Wolflight!

Cookies? Where? (turns around quickly) I want!

**enteringDELERIUM** - Well, Arda is actually the Elvish term for Middle-earth, isn't it? I suppose she could have picked it up from Estel... but now I come to think of it, maybe she shouldn't know the word... hm. Oh well. I didn't actually realize it until you brought it up... hee, but thanks for the review. No more bad cliffie for this chapter... though if you think about it, anytime you read a work-in-progress, each chapter is bound to be a cliffie until it's completed... :) Seriously, thanks for reading and reviewing.

**Kaisaan** - Powerful? Aw... thanks! I'm glad it was okay, then, not as bad as I feared...

Haven't guessed what inspired the Stones yet, by the way? Hee... oh well. I'll tell in the end, promise. In the meantime... sometime in a later chapter, I hope to be able to put up links to pictures of the symbols for each Stone. I have them, just need to upload them somewhere and post. :)

Hope this was worth the wait. I'm scared people will think it a let-down, after the build-up from the last chapter... well. Guess you should read and tell me! :)

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**Chapter 7**

"_Everywhere I turn, I hurt someone  
But there's nothing I can say to change the things I've done  
Of all the things I hid from you, I cannot hide the shame  
And I pray someone, something will come to take away the pain_

_There's no way out of this dark place  
No hope, no future  
I know I can't be free and I can't see another way  
I can't face another day_

_Tell me where did I go wrong?  
Everyone I loved, they're all gone  
I'd do everything so differently but I can't turn back the time  
There's no shelter from the storm inside of me_

_There's no way out of this dark place  
No hope, no future  
I know I can't be free and I can't see another way  
I can't face another day…"_

_- "No Way Out", extended version by Phil Collins, Brother Bear soundtrack_

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_Voices, buzzing in the air like the hum of a thousand bees. I couldn't make out any words that I understood, and all around me, I was all too aware of the beginning of pain. _

"Lady?"

_Darkness, blessed darkness. I almost preferred it right now. There was something I needed to remember, but I didn't want to. Memory hurt. Darkness was good, because in the darkness I didn't need to remember. _

"Lady, wake up. Lady? Can you hear me?"

_Why? Waking up would return me to the light. And in the light, pain waited, waited to overwhelm me and hurt me. My belly clenched at the thought, and I moaned, low in my throat. _

"Gandalf, she will not wake."

"Keep trying. She walks in darkness now, in a world created from dark dreams and despair. But she cannot remain there; caught between Light and Darkness like that. That is limbo, and it is not where she belongs. Call her again, Aragorn. Touch the Stone of Friendship; let her know you want her to return. She can hear you, even if she will not acknowledge you. Her pain is great now, and will be greater still when she wakes…but wake she must. For healing cannot begin until the pain has run its course."

_Gentle hands brushed over me in soothing strokes. Something within me flinched at the touch, and I screamed inwardly. _

_No! Don't touch me! I betrayed my friends – Aragorn! I betrayed you! I deserve this pain, I deserve this darkness!_

_The darkness beckoned, seeming to wink at me, offering me rest, offering me the chance of forgetting. I was tempted; all I would have to do was to leave the last shades of light… _

_In my mind, I could hear the echoes of a triumphant howl. _

"Lady! For goodness' sake, lass! You must wake up! You're worrying the Elf sick over here!"

_A different voice, no less beloved than the first two. Torn between responding to it and recoiling from it, I hesitated,_ _hovering in the space between spaces, between light and shadow. _

"Lady, please. Wake up, Lady! We know it wasn't you, we know you were not yourself… Lady! Please… at least wake up so I can beg your forgiveness..."

_The third voice was melodious, beautiful, soft and pleading. I felt confused. Forgiveness? Why would he ask my forgiveness? Didn't I have to ask _him –

"I failed you, Lady. I held back for fear of hurting you, and failed to stop you from doing something that you couldn't stop yourself from doing, that I know you didn't want to do…"

_He'd done that? I remembered - No! I didn't want to remember. I didn't want the light… _

_But the light was coming anyway. Strong and blue, it broke through the darkness, pushing it back like a gentle wave pushes back the sand on the shore. My heart ached as I saw it; it stirred up emotions in me that I could not name, and I longed to believe that I would be allowed to touch it, to return to it… _

_The shadow wailed, rippling and surging with fury, reaching for me with greedy, clutching fingers that were as cold as death. _

"Your friends are here, Lady. And here we will wait until you return to us once more."

_The first voice again, and in it I could hear such gentleness, such patience. And something else, something I did not yet understand. I capitulated silently, reaching for the blue light – and for the bright yellow light also which was coming now to join it in a steady ray. _

_There would be pain. My head drooped at the thought. But it didn't matter. Beyond it all, in the glow of Friendship and Hope, I knew that I could deny myself and my friends no longer. They called for me to return in a cry that went straight to my heart, an imperative plea that I _had_ to answer no matter what… _

_Stepping into the light, I did not look back. _

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"Lady…"

Aragorn's relieved breath of my name was the first thing to greet me as I woke up, and I blinked in exhausted confusion as I looked around, trying to get my bearings. The soft glow of Friendship and Hope that had led me out of the dark dream of despair was beginning to fade, its job now done. I saw my friends, saw Éowyn, King Théoden and some of the King's men, and for a moment I smiled weakly, relief that they were all alive and safe flooding through me.

And then, slowly, as I became more and more aware, everything came flooding back, and the guilt and shame started.

Aragorn's left arm was wrapped in a swathe of bandages from wrist to elbow. Legolas was unharmed, thankfully, and so were the King and his niece and their men – but Gimli sported a rather large bruise across one arm and cheek, where he had struck the floor when I'd knocked him down. My eyes widened in horror, and I leapt to my paws on the bed. My shoulder twinged, I vaguely remembered getting cut there, but it was irrelevant.

A horrified whimper escaped my throat, and I tentatively reached out to nudge Aragorn's arm with my nose. I was afraid to look up at him, afraid of the anger and hatred and betrayal I was certain I would see there. Or worse still, I feared that I would not see anger. I feared I'd see sadness, and disappointment at how I'd betrayed his trust.

And then, hesitantly, he raised his right hand, moving as tentatively as I had been, touching my head, gently patting it.

"We leave for Helm's Deep soon, my Lady," he told me, gently tilting my gaze up to his face, where I found a quiet, unreadable expression. "I'm glad you've returned to us once again."

I think the gentleness hurt almost more than it would have if he'd shouted at me and used harsh words. Shrinking back slightly, I found that I was trembling as his hands stroked over my fur. Legolas stood by his side, watching me with wise Elven eyes, and Gimli stood on Aragorn's other side, a gruff and dignified figure barely the height of Aragorn's shoulder.

How could I even begin to apologize for what I'd done? I looked at them, then at Éowyn and the Rohirrim I'd almost attacked, deeply chagrined and upset. To my surprise, Éowyn merely gave me a slightly uncertain smile, and said, "I'm glad you're all right, Lady."

My heart leapt at the forgiveness in her tone, and I bowed my head to her in respect and gratitude.

Then, a tall, bright figure stepped out from his corner, and I flinched slightly, startled as Gandalf moved forward. Aragorn moved back so he could examine me, and he nodded in satisfaction.

"Lady is indeed herself again," he announced without preamble, hands stroking my fur much the same way that Aragorn had been doing. "The shadow is gone, repelled. However, I believe that I will take her with me on my quest – not from lack of trust towards her, but because I believe she will be better off with me for a while, and I may need her yet." He nodded to the King, bowing slightly. "With your leave, Théoden-King, I will take Lady and leave Edoras as soon as possible."

My three other companions exchanged glances, while I stared at Gandalf in confusion. He was leaving Edoras? Where to? What for? And why was I being taken away from Aragorn and the others? He said it wasn't lack of trust – but what else could it be? I sent an anxious look to the Ranger, Elf and Dwarf. I didn't want to leave them, yet at the same time I was afraid to face them. Confusion was the main emotion running rampant in my heart, and I didn't understand…

They should hate me. They should be shouting at me, punishing me for what I'd done. Instead they acted as if… as if they'd never stopped caring. As if they'd forgiven me already.

My gaze flew again to Aragorn's bandaged arm, and guilt flooded me again. Aragorn, at least, should hate me more than most. I looked at him, but I could say nothing, and even if I'd been able to speak, I wouldn't have known what to say, how to begin my apology. Oh, Aragorn… Legolas… Gimli! I'm sorry!

Unable to meet my friends' eyes anymore, I bowed my head, and stayed lost in my own thoughts until Gandalf gently patted my shoulder. Suddenly I realized that there was a bandage wrapped around my shoulders, and vaguely recalled being sliced with a sword there by the King's man – Gamling, wasn't it?

"Well, Lady, we have miles to go before we sleep," the Wizard said, quietly and solemnly. I looked up at him, but his gaze was as gentle as Aragorn's had been. "Come then, follow me."

Hanging my head, I slid off the bed silently and followed him, past everyone else, to the door.

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I felt a little better with some food inside me, and as we stepped outside the doors of Meduseld I saw that the city had become a veritable hive of activity. Gandalf strode towards the stables with a confident stride, followed closely by the other three. He was muttering to Aragorn as he walked, and I followed by his side very closely indeed, watching the townspeople as they bustled around, packing the necessities they would need for the journey to Helm's Deep, that ancient fortress of Rohan which the King hoped would protect them from their enemies once again. I felt more vulnerable somehow, after all that had just happened, and jumped in fright at a bellow from Háma the doorwarden, who now stood in the town center, barking out orders and commands.

"By order of the king, the city must empty. We make for the refuge of Helm's Deep. Do not burden yourselves with treasures. Take only what provisions you need," he cried out, as we swept past him towards the stables.

"Helm's Deep!" the Wizard exclaimed in disgust. "They flee to the mountains when they should stand and fight! Who will defend them if not their King?" He glanced at me, and lowered his voice, but even so I caught his next words clearly. "Would that I had more time to discuss this with Théoden…but circumstances have prevented me from doing so, as I had other things that worried me far more…"

'Other things', indeed. I hung my head. Were the consequences of my misusing the Stones to be that more harm was done to our side than good?

"He's only doing what he thinks is best for his people," Aragorn was answering the Wizard calmly. "Helm's Deep has saved them in the past."

The scents of horses and hay hit me hard as we reached the stables, a strong, pungent smell that I had begun to associate with Rohan. Here Legolas and Gimli halted at the doorway, and uncertainly, I paused with them.

"There is no way out of that ravine. Théoden is walking into a trap. He thinks he's leading them to safety. What they will get is a massacre. Théoden has a strong will but I fear for him. I fear for the survival of Rohan. He will need you before the end, Aragorn. The people of Rohan will need you. The defenses _have_ to hold."

"They will hold." Aragorn's answer was simple, and he still bore that calm, collected demeanor. The promise in his words seemed to mollify and reassure the old Wizard, who entered Shadowfax's stall and mounted the magnificent horse. Stroking Shadowfax's neck, he sighed as he mused:

"The Gray Pilgrim... that's what they used to call me. Three hundred lives of men I've walked this earth and now I have no time. With luck, my search will not be in vain. Look to my coming at first light on the fifth day. At dawn, look to the east."

Our search. Gandalf had been serious about needing me, it seemed. He'd told me that he planned to try and locate Éomer - the King's sister-son, who apparently was also the Rider that the Three Hunters and I had encountered while tracking the Uruk-Hai over the plains of Rohan - and his _éored_, and attempt to bring them to Helm's Deep in time to aid his uncle the King and Rohan against the forces of Saruman in the battle that he sensed was coming.

A battle. And more likely than not, Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli would be in it. I gave a sigh that was as heavy as my heart. My friends, whom I loved more dearly than brothers, might be going to war, and I would not be with them. I knew they were warriors, and could more than handle themselves in battle. But still I worried, for even the most seasoned warrior could die, could be taken down by the most unexpected circumstances. For that was the way life went, where nothing was predictable, not even if you had the Sight.

And if they died before this rift that I'd torn between us was fixed, I would never forgive myself.

I'd started after Gandalf as he rode slowly towards the city gates, but now I stopped and looked back. Aragorn stood with the Elf and Dwarf, and they were watching us leave in silence, their expressions undecipherable.

I couldn't_ do_ this!

Gandalf stopped Shadowfax. Watching me with his wise, knowing gaze, he actually gave me one of his rare, genuine smiles, and the warmth of it started off a tiny spark of hope within me.

"Of course," he murmured, his tone soft with apology. "I'd forgotten, in my worry over Rohan and its troubles. Forgive me, Lady. Go, say your goodbyes."

I looked at him, and felt part of the load lift from my heart. Turning around, I sprang towards my friends.

_I'm sorry!_ I cried with my eyes and body language, the only ways I had to express my true repentance and need for their forgiveness. _I betrayed your trust, I broke our friendship. I never meant to, and in the end I wasn't strong enough! I didn't trust in our bond, and now we all have to pay for it… I'm sorry!_

Legolas, who was nearest, ran forward to meet me in a fierce hug, and Gimli patted the back of my neck in a surprisingly gentle touch. The tension that had been rank in the air between us seemed to melt away under the blue glow of Friendship, and I nuzzled them both, my heart lightening as the fog of uncertainty and unsettled emotions lifted, enabling me to breathe again.

"It'll be all right, lass," the Dwarf said, gruffly, his squinty eyes unexpectedly bright in his weathered face. "We forgave you long ago, and it's all over and done with. Close the book, my father would say if he were here, and start a new chapter."

It was more eloquence than I'd heard from Gimli so far, and the Stone of Friendship flared, activated by my love and true regret. I looked at Aragorn, eyes shining with hope and wolf tears.

He bent to hug me as Legolas moved aside, holding me close to him. "Gandalf will keep you safe, so…take care of the old Wizard for us, eh, Lady?" he smiled at me, eyes sparkling in his face. "We'll miss you – but Gandalf needs you, so find Éomer and return to us as quickly as you can."

I swallowed, and nodded, promising him with my eyes all that he asked for, and more.

Once again, the Stone of Friendship practically exploded with light, and the four of us were surrounded with it. I closed my eyes, basking in it, savoring the pure joy of my friends, recalling the last time that the Stone had connected us together like this, where I could feel what they were feeling, and vice-versa. Then, struck by sudden inspiration, understanding clicked in my mind, and I desperately used my paws, trying to wrestle my collar off my neck.

"Lady, what are you doing?" Legolas moved to help me with the buckle, pulling off the fine Elven craftsmanship. "There. What is wrong? Was it too tight?"

I placed my paw solemnly over his hand, and pushed his fingers until they hovered over the blue Stone of Friendship, then I nuzzled the Stone out of its place and closed the slender Elven hand over it, an action which splintered the light of the Stone into smaller rays that arced up towards the sky before fading away. Next, came Gimli, and I lifted the collar with my teeth and gently shook the orange Stone of Courage into his hairy, sweaty palm. And finally, I tossed the leather onto the ground, and used my teeth to pull free the yellow Stone of Hope, which I placed in Aragorn's hand. My task finished, I managed to convey to Legolas that he could now refasten the collar, with only the Stone of Kindness left, back around my neck.

"Lady?" The Elf sounded confused, but he did as I asked. "But why?"

I looked at Aragorn. The Ranger seemed to understand.

"Thank you, Lady. These are great gifts you have entrusted us with," he said, nodding seriously to me. "We'll take good care of them for you, and when the time comes we shall return them to you again."

"I get it. We have to survive to return these to her, eh?" the Dwarf said, with his usual none-too-subtle Dwarven diplomacy. "All right Lady – then we shall." He lifted the Stone to me in a sort of salute.

I smiled. Behind me, Gandalf cleared his throat softly, and I took the hint and turned to leave, looking back over my shoulder as I left my friends behind. Then, swinging to face the path that lay ahead, I broke into a run. The guilt and shame would always be there, I knew, but it was a step to fixing our bond, and hopefully with time they would fade. One thing was sure – I would never make this mistake a second time. My friends were a treasure I did not deserve, far greater and more valuable than all the nine Stones put together, if you asked me. Should I ever threaten them again, I would kill myself rather than allow myself to harm them in any way.

But for now, their caring and ready forgiveness sang in my heart, and I raced the wind with Shadowfax as we set off on our search for Éomer and his men.

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"_I can't believe the words I hear  
It's like an answer to a prayer  
When I look around I see  
This place, this time, this friend of mine_

_I know it's hard but you found somehow  
To look into your heart and to forgive me now  
You've given me the strength to see just where my journey ends  
You've given me the strength to carry on_

_I see the path from this dark place, I see my future  
Your forgiveness has set me free  
Oh and I can see another way  
I can face another day!_

_I see the path, I can see the path  
I see the future  
I see the path from this dark place  
I see the future_

_I see the path from this dark place  
I see the future…"_

_- __"No Way Out", extended version by Phil Collins, Brother Bear soundtrack_

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Well? I tried to keep it realistic, but without too much drama over what she did... as for why they forgave her so quickly, that will be explained in a later chapter, but as it was, I was trying to portray the awkwardness and residue tension between her and her friends after the events of chapter 6.

As usual, comments and concrit are welcomed. :) Thanks to all who are still reading.

RK9.

**Ps - **Um, I don't know, but at least one person missed the fact that I changed the content of my author's note to chapter 5... they were weirded out because all of a sudden Lady seemed to teleport from being tied up outside the hall to being inside, eating a meal and everything... so um, if anyone else didn't read chapter 5... well... this is to let you know that there is one, lol... Kudos!


	24. On The Trail

**Disclaimer:** I don't own, except for Lady. The rest are not mine.

**Author's notes: **Well, I was actually going to wait until my birthday came along (Oct 24th) before I posted the next part, but then I decided not to make you all wait. Instead, as a sort of celebration (if I have the time) I will post this chapter today, and the next part on the 24th - so hope you all enjoy. :) This one isn't much, but things move along in it...

Thanks to all who reviewed, and I'm sorry that I do not have the time to list everyone's name or to respond to everyone individually.

**dansa - **Unfortunately, I follow a mixture of movie and book-verse, but mostly movie. Sorry to disappoint... though I hate that Haldir died too, he was never supposed to be there. But for this chap, I tried to mix together book and movie - as we know, it wasn't really Éomer who was banished and returns to Helm's Deep - it was Erkenbrand. I followed the movie, but... well, you'll see. :)

**Inspired.Butterfly - **I liked that line too, but I don't know how many people realized that it was supposed to be just Gimli greatly exaggerating - like, he's saying that _Legolas _is worried, when in all reality it isn't Legolas who is "worried sick", but Gimli himself... you get it? Like, the Dwarf can't admit that he's the one who's worried, so he blames it on Legolas, so to speak. LOL. Oh, well. It's funny, but a lot of your favorite lines are my favorites too!

And yes, that was meant to be you. I didn't want to embarrass you or mention names, but since you asked... and if anyone else missed chap 5, I have no idea, they didn't mention it to me.

**Temeti - **Yeah, most likely I will change her back, though I have an ending planned, it is not set in stone... it is subject to change still, until I have written it out. I do plan to change her back - but hey, we'll see.

**Kaisaan** - Aw! You know I'll miss you! (hugs) Hope your com gets fixed soon! I want you back! (sniffles)

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**Chapter 8**

Looking over the small grassy ridge, I could see the remnants of where a group of men had made camp overnight. My tail was held high with pride and satisfaction; it had taken Gandalf and I one and a half days of hard tracking and running – well, riding, on the Wizard's side – for us to finally get this close to Éomer and his _é__ored_. Here I could actually scent the fresh scents of many men and horses, down to the individual sweat aromas of each Rohirrim and the different leather-smells of the saddles they used.

We'd started out from the place where the Three Hunters and I had first encountered Éomer and his men, and from there we had followed the rather stale trail north. Gandalf did most of the work for that first day as we traveled with the bare minimum of rest and food, somehow managing to find Éomer's trail across the plains, for there wasn't much I could do with scents that had lain exposed to the elements for so long. But as we kept on, I soon found that the scents grew stronger, and the trail grew warmer and easier to follow, and it was here that Gandalf fell back and allowed me to lead. And it had all culminated well, for here was the camp the _éored_ had made the night before. The men were all gone now, had probably broken camp at dawn, but it didn't matter – with these fresh scents and tracks, there was little-to-no chance that I could not find them.

Glancing up at the tall figure of the Wizard on the proud white horse - the latter of which was sweating hard but acting as though he was fresh out of the stables - I uttered the soft sound of a questioning whine, wanting to know our next move.

Gandalf smiled down at me. "Now, you shall show me your quality, Lady. I'll wager my Wizard's hat that you cannot find Éomer and his party before half a day has passed."

I raised an eyebrow at him. He dared to doubt the abilities of the wolf? Taking the challenge as it was meant to be received – in both jest and test - I leapt easily down from the ridge and moved to explore the camp. Here and there the charred remains of small cooking fires littered the land, and the marks of tents and sleeping rolls flattened the grass in other places. I sniffed cautiously at some ash on the ground where someone had knocked out the contents of a pipe, and hurriedly pulled back as the black remnants of burnt pipeweed nearly choked me. The air was thick with the scents of horse, but I ignored those, it was the scent of one individual Man I wanted.

Trotting back to Gandalf, I refreshed my memory of Éomer's unique scent by sniffing at the inside of a helmet that the Wizard had brought with him from Edoras – it was a spare that Éomer had had, and he had not taken it with him into exile.

As scents go, it was pretty average, to my nose anyway. People and scents were an interesting topic indeed, and if there'd been a call for a study on what a person's scent could tell one about him, I think I'd have been the right person to write it.

It would be both wonderful and fantastical to say that good people smelled like nice scents, stuff like vanilla and peaches and sunlight and snow, while bad people stank like an outhouse on a hot summer afternoon. It'd be nice to hear, nice to compartmentalize…. But it wouldn't be true. People's scents were never as clear cut as that, because unlike in the fairytales we tell our children, one cannot pinpoint a person to be completely good or completely bad all the time. Like it or not, mortal or immortal alike, none are perfect or singularly aligned; we all have our own flaws and imperfections to mar the beauty within.

Take for example, Aragorn. He didn't smell like vanilla at all, and we all know what a great Man he is. He smelled like the Wild more often than not, a warm scent tinged with comfort and sweat and something like the smell of the wind as it moves through the trees, or like the smell of the rising sun. And Legolas – he smelled like the forest, with the smell of dirt and grass and leaves and a smell that was very uniquely his. Where Aragorn's scent was warm and comforting, there was something about Legolas that smelled rather cool, like the smell of a bubbling mountain spring in winter. And Gimli smelled of earth and stone and rock, a sandy smell that was sometimes accented with the aroma of the malt beer that he enjoyed so much. His smell always inspired in me feelings of loyalty and courage, and made me proud to be his friend. Even Gandalf had his own scent, though that is one I'll never be able to describe until my dying day. But Éomer's was easy – sun on the grass and stern steel, a warm scent that was made more potent somehow by the scent of horse that was both around and within it. It told me of a man who was noble and good and strong, a man of pride and power who could easily do great deeds if given the chance.

I found that his tent had been set up near the biggest fire, right in the center of the campsite. His scent was strongest there, though it weaved in faint trails all over camp, and was just as clear near where his sleeping roll had been set. Raising my head, I memorized the scent of Éomer's horse, of which the scent alone told me was a young stallion, and began to follow it, only stopping to signal to Gandalf with my tail for him to follow behind me.

We ran over the plains of Rohan, my nose so near to the ground that I nearly scraped it on the dirt and grass. The sun rose high into the sky, but instinct told me that we were close, very close. The scents were hot enough to cook eggs on; they were that fresh. Gandalf stayed quiet, letting me focus on what I was doing, seeming to have complete faith in my abilities despite his earlier challenge.

And finally, as the sun set in the west to mark the near-end of the second day, I found them.

There, just ahead of us on a small rise, I could hear the sounds of men and horses, could see shapes and shadows in the fading light. Roans, bays, chestnuts, grays and whites – the horses stood in a small herd near the camp, though a few were tethered near the tents of their respective Riders. I paused uncertainly by Shadowfax as I recalled the last time I'd encountered these horses and their Riders. There had been spears aimed at my throat then, and I wasn't too sure that the situation would be all that different if I just went waltzing into their camp now.

But Gandalf, it seemed, had no such qualms. The light of relief and hope was in his eyes as he stared at the men, and he darted a glance and smile at me with a quick, "Well done, Lady, you've earned my hat," before urging Shadowfax onwards towards the camp. I did not follow immediately, but then decided that I would rather be by the Wizard's side than alone here in the grasslands of Rohan, for the vastness of the plains could make a person feel even smaller and more insignificant than they truly were. Running to catch up with the lordly stallion, I moved with caution, ears and eyes alert and scanning for any sign of aggression.

It would seem though, that I'd overestimated my own importance. As I crept after Shadowfax and Gandalf into the camp, the attention of every single man in that place was drawn almost immediately to the magnificent stallion that was being ridden into camp by the tall Wizard in white robes who was surrounded by an aura of wisdom and power. I was surprised, until I recalled that some said the men of Rohan loved their horses more than people – so it was small wonder that they were all ignoring the wolf and the Wizard in favor of looking with awe at Shadowfax. The stallion himself didn't seem at all perturbed by the stares; in fact he tossed his head and seemed to take them as his due, moving where Gandalf guided him.

This was probably how we managed to get halfway into the camp before we were hailed and stopped by a tall man in armor, with fair hair that fell down to his shoulders. He gave his men a stern look, stopping their stares, and then turned to Gandalf and me.

"Who are you, and what do you want?" he asked without preamble, bringing up a sword in warning. "Speak quickly."

Gandalf threw back the hood of his cloak and looked back calmly at the man. "Erkenbrand, lord of the Westfold, do you truly mean to say that you know me not? I, who watched you grow from a tiny babe in your mother's arms to a strong Man in the service of his King? Look at my face and tell me you do not know who I am!"

Erkenbrand stared for a long moment, and then his face changed completely and he gave a cry of recognition, sword falling to his side.

"Why – 'tis you, Gandalf Grayhame! Forgive me – in this light, I did not see who you were. In these dark times, can you blame me? But now – you are here, and I daresay you do not look like a bearer of bad tidings. However," His glance flickered warily to me, "Why have you brought with you this wild creature?"

"Lady is a friend, Erkenbrand, and if you think back, you will realize that you have seen her before," Gandalf answered, swinging himself down from Shadowfax's back. "And I wish I had time to properly introduce her and catch up with you, friend, but I'm afraid that I came here on an urgent errand and must speak with Lord Éomer immediately. Will you bring me to his tent?"

Murmurs broke out among the listening men, and I glanced uneasily at them, but Erkenbrand was nodding and telling Gandalf to follow him. Now I _really_ didn't want to be left alone with all these strange men, and I was quicker to follow Gandalf this time. Shadowfax was quickly entrusted into the care of one of the men nearby by Erkenbrand, and I fell into step at the Wizard's side as he brought us to a tent where a beautiful white-gray stallion was tethered, and outside was the Rider we sought – Éomer, son of Éomund, the Third Marshal of the Mark.

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There was no need for introductions, Éomer rose with a surprised exclamation as Erkenbrand led Gandalf to him. His eyes flew from the Wizard to me, and he stiffened, but I could see that he remembered me, however faintly, from his encounter with me and the Three Hunters. I nodded respectfully to him, but this only caused him to frown.

"Gandalf Grayhame," he said, at length, looking up to the Wizard. "I have heard of you from my uncle, though I have seen you only once before when you came to Rohan and were sent off by my uncle with the gift of the_ Mearh_, Shadowfax."

Gandalf inclined his head slightly in greeting and acknowledgement. "Greetings, Éomer." He nodded towards a small stool that was nearby. "May I sit? Lady and I have traveled nearly non-stop for two days to find you and your men, for Rohan is sorely in need of aid."

Éomer's head jerked up, and his eyes narrowed slightly, not in suspicion, more like a determination to listen to the Wizard. I guessed the words "Rohan" and "aid" had captured his attention. Gesturing, he urged politely, "Then by all means, sit down, and tell us what you have traveled so far to say."

Gandalf made himself comfortable, and without wasting any more words or time, he told Éomer the story of Théoden-King's mind-enslavement and how he and the Three Hunters had come to Edoras and freed him. Then he told of Théodred's death and burial, during which a brief pause was observed as Éomer grieved for his cousin, and then he continued with how the children had ridden from the Westfold with their tale of the attacks there, and finally of the King's decision to go to Helm's Deep.

"Where we must now go, Éomer, for the King will have need of you if Rohan is to survive this fight," he ended. "Saruman will send all the strength of Isengard against your people, for it is his will to completely destroy the world of Men, down to every last man, woman and child. He intends to begin with Rohan. Your uncle will fight, but his forces will not last until the end without your help."

I moved to lie down beside the Wizard, resting my head on my paws, and his hand came to rest on my head, stroking gently. Éomer glanced at me, but this time he did not seem quite so wary – I had come with Gandalf, after all, and so if I could not be trusted then the Wizard would have undoubtedly said so.

"My men are," he said at last, "and always will be loyal to Rohan. If it is the wish of her King that we return to fight for the people and land that we love, then we will fight without fear or regrets. Rohan has need of us, you say, and so we will go. How much time do we have to reach Helm's Deep, Gandalf, before the battle begins?"

"The battle for Rohan has already begun, Éomer, whether Saruman's forces have already left for the fortress or not," Gandalf answered steadily. "How many men do you have here? A thousand, perhaps two thousand strong? You will bring much hope indeed to Théoden, and I fear that in light of recent events he is sorely in need of it. His son's death has broken his already tired spirit, and now his people are under this threat and their courage hangs by a string. They need him, and he fears the fact that he cannot save them all..."

"Then we shall bring him the hope he needs." Éomer got to his feet. "We will leave at first light – I go now to prepare my men for the journey and the battle ahead. Erkenbrand, call the other Marshals together – everyone here must be ready to ride at first light, and we shall not stop until we reach Helm's Deep."

Gandalf slowly got to his feet as well. Clapping a hand on the Third Marshal's shoulder, he regarded him with a slow smile and a twinkle in his eyes. "Your loyalty and courage will not soon be forgotten, Éomer, son of Éomund. Were he here and alive to see you today, your father would be so proud," he said softly, and even in the dimness of the evening, I could have sworn that I saw the Horselord blush slightly.

As the Third Marshal went away with Erkenbrand, the Wizard heaved a tired, but contented sigh and turned his gaze to me. "Our mission is almost completed, Lady, and I'm starting to feel rather hopeful myself. We may yet make it in time… You had best rest, as shall I, for starting tomorrow we will have a long ride ahead of us."

I hesitated, feeling the shadowy memory of fear creeping up on me. The memories of how much I had feared sleep crept up on me from inside, but I shook aside the thoughts and allowed Gandalf to spread his cloak on the ground as a makeshift bed for me and wrap me warmly within it. The Wizard himself did not seem ready for sleep yet, but instead he got to his feet and said something about speaking to Éomer a little more first. I sighed, but was tired enough from our search to lie down and close my eyes. The Wizard's strong, sheltering scent surrounded me from his cloak, and it was surprisingly easier than I'd feared for me to close my eyes and fall asleep.

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_Blackness. _

_A sensation of falling, down into the deep unknown._

_A cold splash that sends my entire body into shock._

_Floating in the river's embrace, going wherever the river bears me…_

_A voice, murmuring in Elvish, and the softness of sand beneath my body..._

_The sun rises, and the yellow glow of Hope fills me through and through, and I remember… I remember who I am and why I'm here._

**_- He will be all right, little one. -_**

_And I know that, really, because I can feel it deep inside – he is safe. There is another presence there, soft and comforting as a mother's song, and I sense that she is here to protect him. _

_And with the light of Hope and the comfort of love around me, I return to my dreams and the soft rhythm of normal sleep._

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When I woke the next morning, I found Gandalf's bedroll neatly rolled up beside mine, but of course the Wizard himself was nowhere in sight. Neither was Shadowfax. Gandalf's cloak fell off me as I sat up. It was near dawn, and around me men were breaking camp, taking down their tents and preparing their horses. I yawned and stretched, vaguely wondering if there was any food to be found in this place. I felt very…peaceful, considering that I'd had few and vaguely remembered, fragmented dreams, and hadn't been pulled into the dreamscape by the Voice for once.

As I got to my paws and began the tedious process of folding up Gandalf's cloak with my teeth and paws – the result was a rather lumpy mess of folded cloth which I dragged over to join his bedroll – I became aware that I was being observed. Turning slightly, I met the gaze of a young Rohirrim with fair, curly locks, who quickly looked away when my eyes met his.

They were all like that. I sensed more stares, but each time I turned to look at the men, they would avert their gazes, looking away. You'd think I was some sort of monster or something who could kill with a look. But before I could get too upset, there was a 'thud' behind me, and I spun to see Éomer, and the rabbit that he'd tossed to the ground at my feet. Tilting my head to one side, I looked at him in surprise.

"Gandalf said you'd probably be hungry, and he advised me not to give you cooked meat," the Third Marshal said by way of explanation. He tilted his head to one side also, looking strangely at me. "You know, you have become something of an enigma among my men, my Lady Wolf. They do not understand who and what you are, and neither do I, truly, though Gandalf has tried to explain. All he will say is that you are not all that you appear to be, and that he will vouch for you if he has to. He also promises that you will do us no harm… I wonder where he could have gotten the idea that we fear the possibility of you attacking us in our beds one night, my Lady?"

He gestured vaguely to me and my current form, and I shrugged my shoulders, appreciating the touch of humor at the end. Wagging my tail in thanks, I picked up the rabbit in my jaws and trotted to my spot near Gandalf's bedroll and cloak to enjoy it, keeping a curious eye on Théoden-King's nephew as he moved to sit nearby with his own plate of food.

Gandalf joined us as we sat there, finishing our breakfasts in silence, surprisingly one that wasn't too awkward. The Wizard greeted me with a pat on the head, and I licked his hand affectionately, feeling the love in the touch. Considering the events in Edoras three nights ago, I felt blessed indeed to still have Gandalf's trust and friendship.

"I hope you're ready to move on, Lady," Gandalf murmured to me as I began to clean rabbit fur from my paws and muzzle, giving them rough licks with my tongue. "The Rohirrim will ride as soon as Éomer is done with his meal. Do you feel ready for a long run?"

Ignoring the instant protest from my stiff limbs, I gave the Wizard a nod, laughing at him with my eyes.

Silly Gandalf. No wolf would ever say 'no' to a run. Those horses would just have to keep up with me.

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Ta-da! Okay, next chapter on my birthday - if i can. :) Yay! I suppose you wouldn't give me birthday presents? You all can guess what I want, surely - yep, concrit and reviews! Though this chappie isn't much, I know...

Oh yes, by the way - the bit where she dreams about Aragorn's little "tumble" off the cliff, is meant to be not-well-described, and sorta blurry. It's like one of those dreams where you know you dreamed, but you can't remember what you dreamed about... I dunno if I portrayed that well enough. But yeah - that's why she doesn't remember it, though I'd guess she does know she _had_ a dream about something...

Well, hope you are all satisfied and can wait another - three more days? Haha - take care!

RK9.

Ps - Say, I wonder if anyone here would be interested if I did a sort of contest? I saw this done for a CSI: NY fic, and I thought it sounded fun - like, whoever posts the review that brings the review total for this fic to a certain number, gets to create an original character whom I will insert into this fic in a future chapter - like a minor OC, but a noticeable one? For example, say the one who posts the 210th review is a member named **abcde**, then s/he would win, and I would get in touch with them and discuss their character and then later in a future chapter, I'd write that character in this fic (with full credit to them for the character, of course...)?

I'm not actually doing this contest yet, so don't uh, get excited if you post review number 210, lol. I'm just asking if anyone would be interested if I held such a contest. Let me know?

Kudos!


	25. The Gift of Guiding Light

**Disclaimer: **Why won't they give it to me as a birthday present? If they did I wouldn't even mind never receiving another present for the next ten years of my life.

**Author's notes:** Well, as promised - here's chapter 9 of Wolflight! Hee - you all get to celebrate along with me...

Uh, so, since some of you have shown interest in the contest thing, then here's the deal. The person who posts the 230th review will get the chance to create a character who will be inserted into this fic. One word reviews that are pointless and just for the sake of the contest will be ignored, so no posting stuff like: "I win!!" or "bump" or "!! Here's my character info, she's a MS with attitude...etc". Don't worry about the contest, just focus on giving your comments and concrit as usual - I'll do the counting, and later I'll contact the winner and discuss the character details with them. I only ask that you don't ask me to write an overly perfect Mary-Sue... nor too challenging a character for my current level of skill, lol. So deal? :)

And I know that I might be asking for a lot, but we've hit 208 reviews already - I'm sure we can hit 230... can't we?

**Review responses:** Thanks to **Temeti, Meekah-Greenleaf, Kage-Fuschichou, Starset, BadWolf-Phoenix, Black Wolf-Dog, Silvara713, Potcfanforever, CheshireMax, Inspired.Butterfly, Simone Lecrae, Yellow-Fluffy-Monster** and** Claire.** And especially thanks to those who gave me birthday wishes and cookies! (munches cyber-cookie)

**Alix-Jesusfreak - **Woot! Happy birthday(belated?)! October babies are the best! Consider this your birthday present - this chapter is dedicated to ya!

**Kaisaan** - You're back! What an awesome birthday present! (hugs) Did you use a thesaurus, lol?

I have only revealed Lady's real name to one person - not even my beta knows. It's kinda a spoiler, yes? Hm... email me or something and I'll tell ya, haha! But really, I'll reveal it in the end. You could always wait... ages... patiently...?

I missed ya! Hope you enjoy this chapter!

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**Chapter 9**

The sky was dark this morning, and there was a thickness in the air that spoke of an approaching storm, coming suspiciously from the south where Isengard lay. I gave the clouds a wary glance, but kept running alongside Shadowfax. Gandalf and I were near the front of the group of about two thousand Riders of Rohan, alongside Éomer and Erkenbrand, and several other Marshals who had been exiled along with Éomer for being loyal to Rohan and their King. I admired them for this – even after the injustice done to them, they were willing to forgive and forget because of this loyalty that ran within them, and it humbled me, not to mention reminded me rather sharply of how my friends had done the very same thing for me. I realized with a start that this might be part of the reason why Théoden-King had been so strangely silent that day about my attacking his niece – perhaps he had been thinking about how his men and people had forgiven him for his wrongs the same way my friends had, and so understood how I felt, and had forgiven me in that very same spirit of understanding? I did not know – maybe I was reading too much into things that weren't there.

I sighed a little. Thinking of my friends had reminded me how much I was missing them now. I hadn't realized how used I'd gotten to having them around, having their unique scents and presences to comfort me and make me feel….whole. True, I had Gandalf, but still…

The Wizard sent me a thoughtful look from behind slightly frowning eyebrows, and I hastily refocused on my path, schooling my expression into a calm and peaceful one as opposed to my melancholy sadness at the lack of a certain Man, Elf and Dwarf… and several cheerful, irrepressible hobbits. Wherever they were, whatever they were doing, I just hoped they were safe.

My wolf senses were suddenly flaring, on full alert. Stopping short, I turned my head, and then had to leap aside, narrowly missing being trampled by the horses that had been behind me. I wove through the racing horses, a deep sense of urgency within me even after I broke through the side of the mass of thundering hoofs and Riders. I raised my head to sniff the air. Besides the heat and smells of the coming storm, I could scent something else too…

Orc-scent!

_Gandalf!_ I raised my muzzle, opening it to release a howl of warning.

Gandalf and Shadowfax were at my side within seconds. The Wizard looked down at me.

"What is it, Lady?" he asked, sharply.

The _éored _made a quick turn as Éomer made his way back to us. "What is it?" he asked, repeating Gandalf's words, looking from the Wizard to me.

I growled, my gaze jerking to the trees, a small forest we'd passed but mere moments ago.

They were coming! There were roars and bellows in the distance, and Gandalf's expression darkened.

Erkenbrand reached us and swore. "Orcs," he spat. "This must be that band of scouts and mischief-rabble that we were tracking a day or so ago, Lord Éomer."

"Then they'll have some spare warg riders with them also," Éomer said, and I could practically see him thinking through possible strategies of attack or defense. I didn't envy him his position as leader of this group of Riders – I would never be able to make the decisions he did. "But compared to us, they are not as many – why would they be attacking us?"

"A distraction," Gandalf inserted grimly. "They intend to try and keep us from reaching Helm's Deep in time."

Éomer's face darkened. "Well, they will not succeed. Erkenbrand! Take everyone but the twins, Brethain, Coenred, Eanfrid, Swidhelm and Thrydwulf, and ride on to the halfway point we agreed upon earlier. If we do not join you by nightfall, leave for the Keep without us and we will join you there as soon as we can. Gandalf, would you -"

Before he could finish his sentence, Gandalf brought out Glamdring, his sword, and answered: "I believe that Erkenbrand can manage without me to lead the way, so I shall assist you in this minor battle, Éomer. Lady will stay and fight with me as well." I nodded, and sent another growl towards the trees. Erkenbrand did not hesitate, and he turned his horse to the rest of the group, calling out orders in the Rohirric tongue. The men surged forward and rode after him, except for a few whom I assumed were the men Éomer had named, who drew their swords and turned their horses to face the trees, ready for battle. There were ten of us altogether, but if we were merely facing a scouting party then we were more than enough.

The glistening glint of the tip of an Orc-poisoned arrow drew my attention, peeking out from the bushes, easily noticed by the wolf who was extra-sensitive to movement and danger. Whirling on one paw, I leapt up and crashed down with the Orc who had been aiming the arrow at Éomer and his men, sending the arrow flying wildly into the sky to miss its target. Battle was joined, and as one the Riders all surged forward to face the foul black creatures who were now pouring from the trees.

There were thirty-odd Orcs altogether, and they had three warg riders with them. I dispatched of the surprise archer quickly, and leapt off his body to attack another one. I did not have the Stone of Courage with me, but I was somehow furious and ready to battle with everything I had. Maybe it was because the Orcs had spoiled my good run? Maybe it was because they served the Enemy? Maybe it was that they threatened me and Gandalf and the Riders now… I didn't know. But I was angry and my blood sang for battle, and now they would all pay.

I took down Orc after Orc with a fervor that surprised even me. Reminded sharply of the wolf in her rage, it was a sudden memory of myself attacking Aragorn that pulled me back, out of the throes of battle-fury and back to myself. Slightly dazed, I took a look around. The men were handling themselves well, as was Gandalf. A loud creaking noise came from behind me, and I turned to see an Orc hacking at a nearby tree with mighty blows from his axe. Confused, I didn't understand why he would stop fighting to try and bring down a tree – until I looked closer and saw the winded Rider who had fallen off his horse and was lying helplessly beneath it.

You guessed it – it was Éomer.

My body tensed and coiled, then unleashed like a spring, and I hurled myself over to the Orc. He spun, meeting me with his axe, but I dodged and knocked it from his hand with a headbutt to his wrist, where it slid over the ground and slipped into a hole between the tree's roots. Slicing my fangs into his throat, I gagged as vile black blood rushed into my mouth, and pulled back to retch a little, turning away from the now-still carcass that fell beside me.

The tree groaned, swayed and started its descent. I turned, but there was no way a wolf could hold back a falling tree. Panic set in – Éomer was still lying there!

"Lady – my leg is trapped!" Éomer gritted out, and looking down, I saw that this was true – he was caught under one of the roots near the bottom of the tree. Not really thinking anymore, I rushed over and began to tug at his pants leg with my teeth. Time seemed to slow down, and it seemed to take an age before my head jerked backwards, and with it came Éomer's foot, slipping free of his boot with an audible scraping noise, a rough drag of skin on leather. I gripped the shoulder of his coat between my teeth and yanked, and he took my hint to stand up and run. Even then, I didn't think we were going to make it, for suddenly the tree seemed to speed up and it hurtled towards the ground - and us - with a loud creaking scream. It hit the dirt where we had been with a resounding thud, and I was just starting to be grateful that it had missed us by a hair when something slammed into my head and a sharp pain shot through my tail. My forward-movement stopped, my body jerked back, and I realized that I was trapped, my tail caught pitifully under the tree, my head having been hit by a large branch that stuck out on the side of the trunk.

Éomer, realizing that I wasn't with him, now turned back. Seeing my predicament, he returned to my side, limping over the twigs and undergrowth with only one boot on, and the other foot bare. He tried to lift the tree off me, but it had been around for several winters now and was too heavy for one man to lift – or even ten. This required more men, with ropes and pulleys, and my heart sank as I realized that we couldn't possibly have the equipment here.

The Third Marshal jerked his head up all of a sudden, and his sword flashed out quickly, just in time to sink into the belly of an Orc who had snuck up on us, killing it instantly and heaving the stinking carcass aside. Then I scented Gandalf, and the men who had stayed to fight, and suddenly the Wizard was kneeling beside me, examining my head and tail. I didn't like the worried expression on his face, and tried to allay it, nuzzle-licking his hand as it passed my muzzle.

"I'm sorry, Lady. We don't have any axes, so we cannot even cut away the part of the trunk that is holding down your tail. We have knives, but the trunk is sturdy and young and thick, and the knives we have are not strong enough to cut through it. You will have to suffer yourself to be pulled free, and we shall just have to hope that your tail survives this."

I sighed, but nodded, bracing myself. Gandalf placed a hand on my tail – I don't think any of the men were willing to try yanking on a wolf's tail just yet – and pulled sharply. I gave a yelping cry of pain, but suddenly my tail shot free, hurting like it had been yanked in two. I twisted my head in a hurry, instinctively licking the sore appendage, but thankfully I'd lost only fur. I couldn't say the same for my pride, for my tail was now a horrifyingly ugly, stumpy, skin-covered ropy-thing that resembled a rat's tail more than a wolf's, having lost its crowning glory. Gazing at it in dismay, I couldn't help but whimper in horror.

Gandalf's tone was amused, but not unsympathetic. "It will grow back, Lady. Be grateful you and Éomer are both unharmed and alive."

Unharmed? He hadn't had the fur scraped off half his tail! I felt strangely like crying, though that was probably more due to the pain in my head than my tail… Startled, I looked up as Éomer approached me slowly, scrutinizing me with his observant gray gaze.

"She has a head injury, Mithrandir," he pointed out to Gandalf, who nodded. "I fear a concussion – can she run still?"

"I think she will be all right – she does not show signs of a concussion, but it is better to be safe than sorry… She will ride with me on Shadowfax, and I know he will bear her willingly. She cannot run in this condition, and I would not ask her to," the Wizard responded to Éomer's concern, and I found myself being gently lifted into Gandalf's arms. The Wizard carried me like a precious thing to where his noble horse waited. I was placed carefully on the front, just behind Shadowfax's strong neck, and the Wizard swung himself up behind me, and I was reassured by his strong hand which held me steady. I felt rather shell-shocked still, and buried my muzzle in Shadowfax's shoulders, closing my eyes as I gave in to the urge to sleep.

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_Darkness greeted me, but even as I prepared for healing sleep, light broke through from above, and I was pulled gently into the dreamscape, where I found a silent forest and a strangely barren garden. I sighed. I really didn't feel in the mood… _

_**- I am sorry about your tail, little one. I know that you loved its beauty and the strength and balance it gives you. But look at the silver lining in this cloud – for you live still. You could have been crushed by that tree because of your foolhardy actions today - and yet it was that very recklessness that saved the nephew of the King of Rohan. The Third Marshal of the Riddermark is a worthy son of Eorl, and he will not forget what you have done for him. And besides, you did not lose it entirely…merely some fur. Count your blessings, little one. -**  
_

_I raised an eyebrow, but stopped to stare in surprise as something walked gracefully into my line of vision._

_There was a soft, vaguely regretful laugh. **- I decided that it was time that I revealed myself to you, little one. - **_

_Before me stood a nymph-like creature whose hair seemed made of soft, new spring leaves, and whose cloudy white eyes made me think of looking into the murky depths of a puddle. It took me a moment to realize that she was blind, and for some reason the poetic description of blindness slipped into my mind:_ "Eyes that see the wind, and more besides"…

_Her body was lithe and slim, but plain, and adorned only with the flowers of springtime. A stem of simbelmynë decorated one shoulder, and vines fell around her, a cloak for this Nature Spirit who was finally within my sights. _

_A smile graced the Voice's face, and she spoke again, though her mouth did not move. _

_**- My name, little one, is Ethyliss – not 'the Voice'. Long have I existed in this world, though now I walk in Arda no longer but in this forest of dreams. It is barren now, and I will have to start work at replanting it, for much of my power was taken from here to help you fight the wolf in Edoras. It was my own doing that caused this need for the destruction of my beloved forest, and I lay blame at no one's feet but my own. For I forgot one of the fundamental rules of asking a favor of someone, and that was to provide you with the knowledge you would need in order to handle the Stones and become who you were meant to be. -** She paused, then continued. **- Yes, I did not tell you that the Stones would cause you to be connected to Sam, who now bears the Stone of Reliability, nor did I mention that through Friendship you would also be connected to little Merry and Pippin – for you saw Fangorn through their eyes in your dreams. You were far from prepared for the devastating effect of these dreams on your unsuspecting mind, and that is how you came to fear that which you did not understand. And I did not see it. In my overconfidence, I forgot about the light which in itself is power. -**  
_

_The light which in itself was power? My eyebrows shot straight up again, without pause this time._

_The Voice – no, Ethyliss, though I could not think of her as anything but the Voice just yet – solemnly raised one long finger, a long slender digit that seemed to be like grass fronds. From the long rush-like digits dangled a rich purple Stone. _

_**- Please accept my humble apologies, little one, and accept this new Stone. I had forgotten about it, and was going to give it to you last of all. It has been a while since I used it, and so I had forgotten its importance – and now, many are paying the price. - **She smiled suddenly, and moved to gently place it on my collar. **- I give to you the light of Knowledge. May it guide you on your way, and help you to choose the right paths. With it you will never get lost again. - **_

_Knowing what was expected of me; I bowed my head to her and touched a gentle, reverent paw to the Stone. Deep purple light flared from it, and I saw the strange symbol of two connected circles, one larger, one slightly smaller, with more circles within each. It looked like a sideways version of the number '8' in the Common script of Men, really, and if it was, then what I was looking at was a rendered version of the infinity symbol. It fit, for was knowledge not infinite and forever sought-after? _

_Looking up, I found that the Voice – Ethyliss – had gone. Above me the familiar light started, and I looked up at it, resigned and ready to leave._

_**- I will return you now to your sleep. You deserve some rest before you have to awaken. There is a battle soon to come, and you should be ready to help your friends. -**  
_

_The light grew, the circle widening, and I closed my eyes as I was pulled through it and into restful dreams._

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"Ignorance may be bliss, but it certainly is not freedom, except in the minds of those who prefer darkness to light and chains to liberty. The more true information we can acquire, the better for our enfranchisement."

_- Robert Hugh Benson, "Intellectual Slavery"_

"The good life is inspired by love and guided by knowledge."

- _Bertrand Russell_

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Just for your information... I actually planned to have Lady lose her tail entire, but changed my mind because it actually became painful to write. (nods) Comments, anyone? (points to pretty purple button)

RK9.


	26. Hope Comes With The Dawn

**Disclaimer: **Not mine. (sigh)

**Author's notes: **Surprise! Two chapters for the price of one update! LOL... but unfortunately, we might be looking at a long spell of no updates after this. My exams start November 12th until December 4th, so I probably won't be updating or going online or having time to write... I'll try, but prepare for a long dry spell. Of course, I'll make time for the contest when someone wins, though. (nods)

Well, enjoy chapter 10! Wolflight is almost over, just one more chapter to go and then Wolfsong begins. Cheerio!

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**Chapter 10**

"Nobody can go back and start a new beginning, but anyone can start today and make a new ending."

_- Maria Robinson _

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When I woke again, I was wrapped up in warm rugs, settled down next to a small fire that had burned out sometime during the night. Instinct told me that dawn was not far off, and I dared to raise my head a little. The pain there had receded into a dull throbbing, but there was something wrapped around my head – I scrabbled at it carefully, and realized after a moment that it was a bandage, scabbed with some dried blood from my head wound.

The sound of familiar, steady footfalls came from my left, and I turned. The world spun slightly, but suddenly righted itself just as Gandalf appeared in my line of sight. I was glad to see the Wizard, and I stood up to tell him so, whining low in my throat and waving my tail – oh yeah. My poor, half-naked tail….

"Lady, you should be sleeping still," sighed Gandalf, but there was an underlying tone of affectionate amusement in his tone. "No more nightmares, I hope?"

I shook my head, then wished I hadn't, for the world began shaking as well. I was nearly convinced there was an earthquake going on, but logic won out and I knew it was just my head wound causing my vision to blur and spin whenever I moved too quickly or too energetically. Gandalf "tsked" under his breath, and sat down beside me, fingers grazing my bandaged head as he took a look. I sat down also – by now I'd started to figure out that standing had been a bad idea.

"Fuzzy vision, Lady?" asked Gandalf, and he gave me a stern look that killed any desire I might have had to lie or line the truth with cotton wool. Sighing, I nodded reluctantly.

"Headache?"

Another nod.

"Confusion? Inability to recall past events?"

Shake, shake.

"Hm." The Wizard stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Disorientation? Clumsiness?"

I raised an eyebrow at him, but shook my head to both questions.

"Hm, hmm." Without another word, he gestured for me to lie down, and I did so, stretching out beside him. It did feel better now that I was flat on the ground, I supposed, with Gandalf gently stroking my fur. We sat together in silence for a long time, before he unexpectedly broke the silence, asking, "You've been missing them, haven't you, little one?"

I stiffened and started to get up, but he held me down. Them? Well, if he meant Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli – and I didn't doubt that he did – then yes, I missed them. Thinking of them made me feel… I couldn't describe it, it was like having a hole in my heart where there hadn't been one before…or maybe it had always been there and I'd never noticed. Well, I noticed it now, and it _hurt_, because it was empty, because it wasn't full…

"I'm sorry, little one." The Wizard met my startled gaze. "I thought, after the events at Edoras, that perhaps you would be better off away from them for a while. I thought that giving you a goal to achieve, a mission to complete, would help you to feel needed and trusted again, and that it would give you time to forgive. But it seems that it hasn't helped much after all…"

Forgive? What was there to forgive? I'd attacked them, not the other way around! I sat up suddenly, dodging the hand that was put out to hold me down, and stared at Gandalf, bewildered and confused. His eyes were soft and wise and knowing, lit by firelight against the fading shadows of night. Slowly, he explained: "I meant for you to forgive _yourself_, Lady. What happened in Edoras caused you to fear yourself. I saw it in your eyes when you woke that morning, and I saw it again yesterday when you fought the Orcs. The old Lady, the one we met in the woods near Moria, would not have hesitated to kill those Orcs that posed such a danger to her friends, to the men of Rohan – yet you did, when you realized how ferocious you were being. I knew you were remembering Aragorn, for I saw the terror and regret in your eyes."

I hesitated, honestly not knowing how to respond to that. Forgive _myself_? He was right, I hadn't yet. I didn't feel I ever should. Aragorn and the others, they had forgiven me, I knew, but I didn't quite understand how they could have. It wasn't that I wasn't eternally grateful for their forgiveness, but that I didn't see how… I'd attacked them, the wolf had attacked them. But none of them had hated me or blamed me…

Whimpering out a desperate groan, I scrabbled at my head with my paws as all the pain and shame and guilt and self-hatred came flooding back. I loved my friends, yet I had betrayed them. I'd been too weak – too weak to stand up to that which I should have had the Courage to fight back against.

Hands pulled at my paws, bringing them away from my head. "You'll hurt yourself!" admonished Gandalf, looking concernedly at me. "Oh, Lady." His expression sad, he blew out his breath in a quiet sigh. "You still blame yourself, don't you?"

How _couldn't_ I?

"You do not understand." The Wizard placed my paws on the ground again, and looked at me with such an expression that I could not look away. "Lady, we know you are not to blame. We knew that it wasn't you. Why do you think Legolas missed you with his arrow? He couldn't bring himself to kill or harm you, not even to stop you from hurting the others – hence why he asked your forgiveness, for he felt that by doing so he failed you."

Legolas had missed me _on purpose?_

A prickle of hope filled me even as I looked at him with naked emotion. I couldn't have hidden my feelings if I'd tried; there was just too much of it all and it overwhelmed me. Being a wolf, I couldn't cry, but it felt like I was on the verge of shedding tears – that was how bad it was. The horror of what I'd done, the guilt and the shame - it was like days of heavy rain that had flooded the reservoir, and my chest represented the floodgates…and they were about to burst open. This close, unfiltered, Gandalf couldn't miss my pain… But still I was startled to see a lone tear fall from his eyes as he reached out to pull my head into his lap. I let him, and he held me, stroking my back, his chest heaving with emotion, though no more tears fell… except maybe in his heart, and my own.

"Oh, Lady," he murmured at last. "You do not know what we see when we look at you. We see a wolf, yes, but you are no true wolf and it is more than apparent for those who look closely at you, past the outer appearance and into the _you_ inside… There is light and beauty inside you, and a sentience in your eyes that is not present in the gaze of other wolves and animals – an intelligence and soul that is unique to Men, Elves, Dwarves, Hobbits, and others like them. We see Light in you, little one, and it was not present on that night when you attacked Edoras. It was clear to every one of us that you were not yourself. And it is time you understood why." Gently helping me to sit up, he looked into my eyes and smiled a little.

"You are wolf and _peredhil_, Lady. One is Shadow, the other Light. And when Light and Shadow share one body, there will always be a struggle between who will reign."

Something began to whisper in my mind, and subtle warmth began around my neck. It surprised me, even as I realized that a strong purple glow was beginning to shine forth. The whispers were not intrusive or distracting, but they were there, murmuring in a voice that was familiar yet unknown, gentle yet powerful, using a language that I did not understand and yet knew all too well. Gandalf did not stop speaking, in fact his smile grew wider if anything, and he reached out to touch the Stone of Knowledge as it glowed.

"Ah," he murmured. "Knowledge, yes, arguably one of a warrior's most powerful weapons…" He sighed, and continued: "This you should know: Ever the wolf will try to serve her Master, Lady," he told me seriously, somberly. "Should she succeed, Sauron will have gained a powerful servant indeed, for you are the Stonebearer, and within you there is an unending river of untapped potential and strength. Yes, for you were chosen to be the Stonebearer, and if you did not have the strength to be who you are then the Stones would not glow for you, they would never have chosen you or consented to have you bear them. You must let your Light shine, Lady, for it is Light that turns back the darkness, the only thing that the Shadow fears. Have you never seen how it runs for dear life when even the tiniest of flames are sparked into existence? Have faith in yourself, Lady, and believe. Hope, for hope gives strength to the Light that you bear. And if you fight and do not fear, Lady, you will find that your friends will fight with you - for they love you." He ran a finger over my muzzle teasingly, and I couldn't stop myself from smiling up at him, though incredulity shone in my eyes.

"Yes, you silly, stubborn creature, we love you. You wormed your way into our hearts somehow, my Lady Wolf, and now you'll find it won't be as easy to get out as you think. Oh, no – you're stuck with us, little Lady."

My heart felt full. Laughing, my mouth open in a wide wolf grin, I snuffle-licked his hand and pounced on the Wizard to snuggle in his hug. The pale lavender glow of Kindness joined the purple glow of Knowledge, and I was surprised as the Light of the Stones chased away the dark emotions within me, weakening their power over me.

Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli – they loved me? I could hardly believe it, yet words from Gandalf's mouth couldn't possibly be lies… especially not about this important a subject. It felt like a great burden had been lifted from my heart, and I felt lighter than I had in days. Gandalf, dear Gandalf – did he know how much he had done for me?

Light appeared in the east, and a silver dawn broke slowly across the land. The Wizard laughed and pushed me off him, and together we turned to watch the sun rise.

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Morning came, and I greeted it on my own two paws, ignoring the throbbing in my head, a pain like the pounding of drums beneath my scalp. Gandalf placed me on Shadowfax again, and I did not argue – I couldn't run, for if I did I knew that I would not make it to Helm's Deep, and I'd slow the Riders down. Something inside me told me that we had no more time to waste; we had to ride on the wings of the wind and hope we got there in time.

After a quick, hasty breakfast, the Riders were ready to resume our journey. Éomer gave the signal, and we rode out. It was the worst ride of my life, for unlike before I was now fully conscious and able to feel every bump of Shadowfax's body against mine. Gandalf held me on securely, but still I thought that the ground seemed unreasonably far away. I know that Shadowfax was probably a smoother ride than any other horse in Arda, but I was beginning to feel like a sack of potatoes on his back.

We did not stop for rest or food. Had I been riding as the Men were, I guess my rear end would not have enjoyed it. We rode through the day, and later, through the night. Éomer's face was tense, his bearing tight, and I saw that Erkenbrand and some of the Marshals were the same. I knew they feared that they would be too late. They feared what they would find at the Keep, and to some extent, what they would have to face. They worried for friends and brothers-in-arms, for family and loved ones who were already there. A storm broke through the silence of the night, but we rode on still through the rain until it stopped, and I wondered at what it was that gave us all the strength to keep going through it all.

Friendship. Hope. Powerful motivators indeed, they spurred us on to new heights that we previously deemed unattainable, inspired us to do things that we thought we could never do – and all for those we loved.

Aragorn. Did he live still? Legolas? Gimli? And not just them – what about Sam and Frodo, whom I had seen in danger in Mordor not too long ago? And Merry and Pippin? Gandalf had said they were safe – were they still in that condition?

Gandalf's breath hitched, and I twisted my head to look up at the Wizard in alarm. "Helm's Deep is but an hour away, at full gallop," he whispered to me. "See – the night is almost over. I hope – but I told Aragorn to look to the east when dawn rose on the fifth day. I pray we are in time."

Waving to Éomer, the Wizard cried to Shadowfax: "Away, Shadowfax! Make haste! Our friends are in need of your speed!" And the loyal white horse reared once and whinnied, and leapt away, ahead of the horses of Rohan. I hung on as well as I could, and we raced the dawn towards the great fortress called Helm's Deep.

Not for the first time, I witnessed the sun rising over the land, and though I had seen it many times before, it was a new revelation to see the morning chasing away the shadows of night, which ran away and disappeared. In the end, the Shadow was only a passing thing, fading away with the presence of Light. A new day would come, and when the sun shone, it would shine out the clearer, and Hope would come with it to strengthen the Light.

Shadowfax galloped up a ridge, and then, we saw it – Helm's Deep. We had made it, we were here. And what a sight greeted us. The Uruk-Hai of Isengard were a pulsing, malicious black wave, spread across the ground below the ridge, and I saw that they had somehow destroyed the Deeping Wall and breached the Keep. I saw many had fallen from both sides, and there, on the causeway, Théoden-King had ridden out with his men in what was apparently a last-bid attempt to fight back, to retain what little hope and courage remained within his heart and in the hearts of his men. My own heart leapt, for Aragorn was with him on a horse I had not seen before, fighting like a champion, as straight and tall on the dark bay stallion as a King. Neither man had noticed us yet, nor anyone else. But I knew the Ranger would not have forgotten Gandalf's words.

"_Look to my coming at first light on the fifth day. At dawn, look to the east."_

Directed by an instinct I could not name, I slid carefully from Shadowfax's back, landing on the ground with a heavy thud but also with the balance all four-legged creatures have. Head and tail high, I tilted my muzzle to the sky and began to sing the song of the wolf. Silhouetted against the rising sun, I howled out a song in the language that all wolves knew, and though I did not understand it completely, I knew what I was singing. It wasn't a great heroic speech, nor was it even a sentence. It was but one word, and that word was simply: Hope.

From the causeway, I saw the Riders there turn to look up, towards the light of the sun. Théoden shielded his eyes and gazed at us in wonder, a smile slowly brightening his exhausted face. Aragorn saw us too, and waved his sword to us in triumph and relieved joy. Around his neck, I saw the yellow glow of the Stone of Hope begin, and it poured over the men in a tidal wave of Light, and I saw strength return to all it touched, renewing their energy and faith. From the trenches, I saw an answering orange glow shine out defiantly, refusing to be stamped out, and a deep blue Light came from a tall, slender figure on the ramparts who was fighting with all the strength in his Elven body, knives flashing as he whirled with the Uruk-Hai in a deadly dance.

Relief filled me as I saw all three of them - my friends were here, alive, and they fought on still. Relief filled me with joy, and my song intensified in volume and emotion, until at last, turning slowly on its final notes, moving to its end, I was forced to end the song and take a breath. From his seat on Shadowfax, Gandalf give me a look of mingled wonder and approval as hoof beats signaled Éomer and Erkenbrand's arrival, with the _éored_ just behind them.

"Théoden-King stands alone," Gandalf told them quietly, as they took in the sight below us. But rather than let the overwhelming odds fill them with despair, Éomer's face tightened and filled with determination, and he drew his sword.

"Not alone," he answered, and raised his hand, a signal for the group to turn and face the battle. "Rohirrim!"

On the causeway, I saw Théoden's face break into a smile; saw him mouth Éomer's name.

"To the King!" cried the Third Marshal, a shout that echoed throughout the group of Riders as weapons were drawn, and then Éomer plunged his horse down from the ridge, towards the sea of fighting, and his men leapt after him. Gandalf and Shadowfax followed too, and I broke into a loping run, following them - straight into the wall of Uruk-Hai. Crashing onto one, I snarled and knocked his spear from his hand, and began fighting.

With this dawn would come victory. I scented fear in our enemies, and in my heart I knew that Rohan was saved. Still, I took down Uruk after Uruk, right up to the moment when the forces of Isengard knew they had lost, and their spirit broke as they ran from the wrath of the Rohirrim, towards a strange forest. The Riders chased them until Éomer rode in front, crying: "Stay out of the forest! Keep away from the trees!"

I cannot describe what happened next, and I doubt any of us truly knew, but screams and cries came from the forest, and not a single Orc escaped to tell the tale of what happened. The forest eventually fell silent, and I felt a grim satisfaction coming from it, and inside my heart I felt strangely that justice had been served.

Shuddering, I limped on tired paws towards Éomer and Gandalf, smiled up at them both – and collapsed, safe in the knowledge that the battle for Rohan had been won. My last thought was: _'Take that, Saruman!'_ and then the darkness claimed me just as Éomer reached me and lifted me smilingly into his arms.

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_**Peredhil**_** – **Half-Elven; also a name given to Lord Elrond

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RK9.


	27. Together Again

**Disclaimer: **Still not mine... except for Lady and various OC Rohirrim.

**Author's notes: **For Kaisaan - Happy birthday! I might be a little early depending on where you are... but it's November 3rd here, so yay! (throws confetti and brings out cake and ice cream) Thanks to all who reviewed - and yeah, we hit 237 reviews! Number 230, and winner of the contest was dangrgurl7283! I have contacted her, and she has given me the details of her character - so expect to see her in Wolfsong later!

Yeah, and we're finally here. This is Wolflight's final chapter, and after this, I have to focus on my exams... but the first few chapters of Wolfsong are with FairOphelia for betaing, so I'll probably be back Dec 4th, earlier if I can find time. :( I know, I'm sorry to leave you all hanging... I'll update if I can, but no promises! Thanks to all who have reviewed, and to those who are reading but not reviewing...

Oh. The description of the caves is adapted from another website, and I took a few liberties with the Elven funeral rituals since there doesn't seem to be much info on such things anywhere online...Oh. Sorry, **dansa**. You'll see why later...

**Kaisaan - **No, in your previous review, you used a lot of words that were almost the same thing... so I was teasing ya and asking if you used a thesaurus, lol. Kidding! You can email me for Lady's name or just to chat... Just let me know who you are, eh? I hope you enjoy this chapter - it's all yours, dear!

**FoxyHottie - **Here's one more chapter for you! Thanks for reading, and sorry you have to wait for more...

Wish me luck in my exams, everyone! I promise I'll be back, I don't want to leave this fic hanging any more than you want me to! See y'all Dec 4th, sooner if I can! I hope you'll all still be here!

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**Chapter 11**

Snatches of conversation floated in and out of my consciousness, and I wasn't truly aware of what was real and what was part of my dreams. Opening my eyes was too much effort, and I drifted and dozed, feeling strangely content. With my eyes shut the pain in my head was much diminished, but it only flared up to life again as the cheering began. I moaned, but couldn't blame them – Rohan had just won one of the greatest battles of our time, after all.

A familiar pair of arms gently took me from Éomer's careful hold, and I sighed, recognizing the beloved scent. Snuggling down into the nearest shoulder, I was still awake enough to avoid jostling his injured left forearm, a whine bubbling out of me as soon as I was comfortable. A chuckle sounded near my ear, and I heard the warm tones of my friend's voice murmuring something to me. I snuffle-licked his neck, but somehow it was too much work to open my eyes.

"Lady!" The melodious tones of my other friend's voice touched my ears. "Is she all right?"

"She's fine, _mellon nin_, merely tired. Gandalf tells me she barely rested during the search for Éomer and his men, and I saw her fighting like a whirlwind against the orcs with the Rohirrim."

A soft touch on my back, stroking through my fur, and a sleepily contented sigh slid from me before I could check it.

"She did fight well. I was watching from the ramparts," the second voice said, tone amused as he continued stroking. "By the way, have you seen Gimli anywhere around, Aragorn?"

"No, not yet. But I would not worry, Master Elf, for doubtless he survived the night."

"Undoubtedly. He is amazingly stubborn for someone of such small stature. Still, my heart will not rest easy until I have found him and ascertained his wellbeing, for I must admit that he has become somewhat dear to me."

A nod from the one carrying me, and I grumbled low in my throat as he shook me a little with the action.

"My apologies, Lady."

A laugh, from our other companion. "I will go and find the Dwarf, and leave you to bear away your cargo to more comfortable a resting place. Take good care of her, for _this_ jewel is more precious than any other available in Arda." A soft, friendly kiss was planted in the fur on the back of my neck. "I have missed you dearly, little one, we all have."

_Missed you too, Legolas… _I yawned, still rather disinclined to open my eyes.

"There will be time for talk later when she is not half-asleep, Legolas," Aragorn assured him, the hint of laughter in his voice. "Go, find Gimli. Did you both not have a bet as to who would kill the most Uruk-Hai during the battle?"

"If he has beaten my final tally of forty-two, I shall be surprised, but I cannot say I will mind losing as long as he is alive and well," came the languid reply.

I felt him turn to leave, and Aragorn fell silent also as he bore me away. Halfway back, I really fell asleep, and did not wake again until much later. My heart was relieved, for I knew now my friends were all well – they had survived the night, as had I.

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The warmth of a sleeping fire traced my fur as I awoke an indeterminate amount of time later, and sweat dampened my pelt where it was covered by soft cloth. Yet despite the slight stickiness and discomfort, the touch of the heat was pleasant, wonderful against my body, and I shrugged off Aragorn's Elven cloak which had been serving as both blanket and pillow, giving me comfort to lie on the hard ground.

No, wait. This was rock, not dirt. I'd been placed on a shelf of solid rock, cut by Nature herself into the walls of a cavern of some sort, a natural room here in the depths of the earth. Groaning a little, feeling all sorts of battle-aches and bruises making themselves known, I stretched my body and took a look around.

Apparently this was a sleeping alcove for the people of Rohan to rest in, for there were Rohirrim all around me, snoring on sleeping rolls or comfortably ensconced within sleeping sacks. Women there were also, but in another corner, behind a makeshift partition for some semblance of privacy, and in yet another part of the room some families slept with children and elderly folk. Some had minor injuries, but this wasn't the healing room, where the seriously wounded would have been placed.

But the Man I truly wanted to see was not here. Anxiety and apprehension tightened my chest, and I scanned the alcove – but no, the Elf, Dwarf and Wizard weren't here either. Not even Éomer or Éowyn or Théoden-King – but no, I supposed the King and his family would have a special alcove assigned for their use, maybe even an actual room.

Jumping lightly off the shelf, I paused only to wonder what I was going to do about Aragorn's cloak. I didn't want to leave it here – it could still be used, and leaving it behind to possibly be forgotten later…it didn't sit well with me. Tugging it between my teeth, I tried to drape it over myself, with rather comical results that I shall not describe here. Why, oh, why had the Ranger given me his cloak? I couldn't carry it with me, not now.

A throat cleared, and I turned to see a face that I had seen before. This was the young Rohirrim from Éomer's _éored_, the one who had been staring at me before, along with all the others. I glanced warily at him, but all he did was to drape the cloak over my body, and fasten it around my neck so that my collar was hidden beneath it. I thanked him, nudging his hand gratefully, and he gave me a wordless smile. Happy again, I trotted off to the rest of the caves.

Oh, the _caves_…

One thing I've always loved about Nature – just when you think you've seen all the beauty there is to see, Nature will come back and surprise you with something even better. You think you've seen the greenest forests, the most beautiful mountain ranges, the best sunsets and cloud-filled skies? Hah! Take a look here, she'll tell you. See _this_ tree, see _that_ river! Take a look at the sky here, and marvel at its colors! Look at _that_ field of grass with dewdrops glistening in the morning sun. See _that_ rainbow; take a look at _this_ valley! Wonder at all that you see before you, and at that which you still have yet to see…. Little half-Elven, little wolf girl – no one will ever see all that I have to show you, no one will ever know all the beauty in this world, and any who claim to have done so are liars and fools. My secrets are there for those who look…so look, little one, and see!

And so, I took my first look at the Glittering Caves of Helm's Deep, and I knew that once again, Nature had surpassed all my expectations, far beyond what the mind could imagine. Fangorn had been green and great, and now here before me were caves that were its equal in every way. The floor was sandy, covered with fine golden grains that shone in the reflected light of the caverns. Looking up, I could see high, dome vaults that made up the rocky ceilings, with fissures near the top that allowed air to filter in and out. The walls were polished stone, lined with shiny veins of ore and precious gems of all kinds, both rare and common. And rising from the floors, hanging from the ceilings, there stretched tall pinnacles of white, yellow and rose. There were even still, dark lakes and pools of water in the cave, and I could hear trickling water that came from a small stream at the entrance of the caves. Here and there were passages and stairways that led off to different rooms and places, and I started to feel very small and insignificant and lost, here in the middle of the most beautiful caves I had ever seen.

Still, I couldn't stay here forever. Reluctantly taking one last admiring look at the natural beauty of the stone and rock around me, I followed the sound of people. I passed an alcove-like room where some livestock were kept, cows, sheep, chickens and other assorted farm creatures, and another room where food was stored. People in the rooms and caves that I passed stopped what they were doing to come and stare at me – let's face it, they probably didn't see a wolf wearing an Elven cloak every day, walking through the caverns of Helm's Deep as though she were Helm Hammerhand himself.

Cheerfully nodding to one or two of them – if I was going to be the center of attention, I might as well be courteous about it – I passed them by quickly, trotting from the passageway into a way that seemed to lead upward. I paused abruptly as I caught a very familiar scent indeed. A near-insane bout of relieved joy filled me, and I turned and sprang away, forgetting the eyes that had been on me. Let them tell their tales of the mad wolf in their caverns, I didn't care. I followed that beloved scent, and went rushing into a cave a little way away…only to grind to a halt in confusion and slowly growing horror.

There was Legolas, just as I had scented him, but he had not noticed my noisy entrance into the room. Tears streaked the pale Elven cheeks, and his head was bowed. All around him, placed respectfully on ceremonial woven mats, lay the bodies of dead Elven warriors, clad in the red and gold armor of Lothlorien.

All were silent, all were dead. The bodies had been cleaned, yes, but I could see still the terrible wounds of Orc-ish blades and arrows, and all too easily I could see how each had fallen in my mind. At least two hundred there were, and my roving, stunned gaze lit suddenly on one face that I had known.

Haldir, marchwarden of the Galadhrim of Lothlorien.

Uttering a wordless cry, I rushed over to the fallen body, which glowed with Elven light even after death. Another hero had fallen – a hero every bit as great as Boromir had been, though definitely Boromir had been closer to me than the other. Haldir – he'd shot me with an arrow when first he'd seen me, but he'd done it because he'd thought to protect the realm he loved. I'd known him, talked to him during our time in the Golden Woods. And now I never would again…

'_Haldir_,' I thought his name softly, sadly in my head, hearing the echo resonating in my mind and heart. '_May you find peace in whatever land Elves go to after death, and may the woods there be as fair and golden as the one you have left behind.' _

A gentle hand touched my head, and I became aware of the growing blue glow that was reaching out to me. Legolas gently pulled me away from the fallen Elf, swallowing hard as he attempted to explain.

"We were outnumbered, Lady," he whispered, a haunted look of gaunt desperation on his face even at the memory of the battle that had taken place. "Three hundred, against ten thousand, and most of our forces consisted of men who had seen too many summers…or boys who had seen too few. Farmers, farriers, stable boys – they were not soldiers, and their fear was rank in this place. And they had every right to be frightened. I made the mistake of giving in to despair, and hope left my heart. But Aragorn, he held firm, and it was shortly after I apologized to him -" here he hesitated slightly, gaze dropping as he recalled something which apparently upset him, before continuing, "- I heard them, Lady. The melodic, much-missed call of Elven horns. A force of two hundred Elves of Lorien, sent out by the Lady a few days ago, for with her Sight she sensed they would be needed here. And they were, and glad we were to see them: Aragorn, myself, the King – even Gimli. They gave hope to the men; for they were warriors, a contribution of strength where it was sorely needed. They were proud to stand and fight alongside Men – and they have paid the price for Rohan's survival. Hence this place of honor for their bodies in this room, where Théoden says they used to lay the fallen Kings and lords of Rohan. Out of two hundred – none of the Elves who fought here survived the night, save me."

He stopped, shaking slightly as he held me, and drew in one long, shuddering breath. "And the worst of it is, Lady, I feel… relieved. I'm glad, glad that I am not dead, that I'm not lying here alongside my kin, my people. And at the same time I wish I had fallen with them, and been laid to rest here with them after proving my love and loyalty and courage in a battle alongside Men who have truly earned my respect. At the end of the day, age and experience had nothing to do with it. We were united, one race, one people, one mighty force fighting for our loved ones, for our friends, our family, our land, and ultimately our past and future and present combined. We were _one._"

He sighed, looking drained and pale, and I couldn't bear it. Whining softly in sympathy and friendship, I moved into his arms, and the Stones of Kindness and Friendship flared: one around my collar, one around his neck on a rough thread. His arms tightened around me, and in that instant, we were one, too, just like he'd said. I felt his despair, his grief, and a whole explosion of other deep-resting emotions besides. I don't know what he felt in me, but it seemed to calm him, and give him comfort, for I felt his pain and anguish as it dulled, soothed by the emotional balm I was trying to give to him. After all, as he'd once told me, we were like kin. He had offered to be my crying shoulder then, an ear to listen to my troubles, a pillar of strength to lean on. Now, it was my turn to be all that and more for him, and I did so without regrets because he was my friend, and I wanted to be one to him, too.

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We left the room after a long while of holding onto each other, drawing on each other for the comfort we needed, though I suppose Legolas needed more of that than I, for even though I grieved for the Elves, Legolas must have felt it all ten thousand times more deeply than I ever would.

"I will come back later," Legolas sighed, looking at me with a grief-filled smile. "There are certain cleansing rites I wish to do for them before…" He sighed, then added, "The Rohirrim, they have asked me what the Elven customs call for in terms of burying my dead kin, and I have told them how in times of war it is acceptable for our dead to be burned on a pyre beneath the skies. They have promised to do so, but first – I wish to perform the cleansing rituals that would have been done by our healers or leaders had there been any here. They must be washed properly, and redressed in clothes similar to their old ones… I don't know how I'm going to do it, but try I shall, for they deserve every honor I can give to them."

I gave him a questioning look, and he understood, gently but politely declining my wordless offer. "Aragorn and Gimli would help me also if I but asked, I know, but this is something that I must do alone, Lady, even if it takes me all night. At the most, Aragorn might help, as he once dwelled in Imladris and so knows our ways and customs. And only after my kinsmen are settled, then only shall I rest before we follow Gandalf and the others, who are planning to ride out to Isengard and confront a certain White Wizard who dwells there."

Imladris? Wasn't that Rivendell…?

Before I could wonder too far along, though, Legolas held out his hand to me, suitably distracting me. Bowing slightly, he suggested, "I think we should be going. I will take you to Aragorn and the others, who I am sure you originally intended to find before you accidentally stumbled upon me. I'm sorry, Lady – I would have kept you from witnessing my grief if I could."

I gave him a Look. Didn't he understand that I was glad that I had been there? It was the least I could do, to share in his grief and lessen his pain. Nudging his hand gently, I followed the Elf as he led me through what seemed like a small maze of caves and caverns, until we emerged into a hallway, where fading light filtered in through a small east-facing window. There, at a table near the other end, were Théoden-King, Éomer, Gandalf, Aragorn, Gimli, and some of the Marshals of the Mark: both the ones from Éomer's group, from whom I assumed the stain of exile had been lifted, and some whom I remembered from Edoras. Aragorn got to his feet when he saw me, and I looked up at Legolas for permission of sorts a split second before I took off, racing the length of the hall to where my friends waited. Aragorn laughed, bending to ruffle my fur affectionately, and Gimli gave me a sudden, uncharacteristic bear hug and a gruff, "It's good to see you again, lass."

And as Legolas joined us, I realized that I felt whole again. Tomorrow we would ride out again to danger and death and destiny, ready to fight the darkness with everything we had… But for now, it was just us, and my friends were alive and here with me, and all was right with the world.

Gandalf, sitting with pipe in hand as I reconnected with my friends, slanted a twinkling gaze towards me.

"I hope you're ready for a journey to Isengard, Lady," he told me. "There's a Wizard who has much to answer for, and we hope to gain information from him. But we shall see what the dawn brings, for I fear he will not give up so easily."

"Neither will we," Aragorn stated firmly, and the Stone of Hope sent out its yellow glow from around his neck, reacting to his determination, making me sit up a little straighter as well.

"Here Lady." Legolas' voice had me turning, to see that he had removed the Stone of Friendship from around his neck. Untying the string from it, he held it out towards me with a smile. "Thank you for the gift of Friendship, my Lady."

"Ah, yes." Aragorn removed the Stone of Hope from his own neck as well, and turned to place it back in place on my collar. "We have all three of us learned a lesson about being Stonebearers, Lady," he said, with a rueful grin. "It takes a great amount of inner strength, for it is no easy burden to bear. Five days only we bore these, and only one Stone each, and yet I must confess that I am glad to be returning them to you. It is a great load off my shoulders and my heart. But we discussed it, and we decided these Stones belong to you, so…thank you for lending me the Stone of Hope, Lady."

"Aye," Gimli added as I ducked my head, embarrassed. "Thanks for your Courage, lass," he told me, passing his Stone to Aragorn to be set in place alongside the Stones of Friendship and Hope.

"Courage, Friendship and Hope brought us through that battle, all right," Théoden said, surprisingly contributing to our conversation, sending me a thoughtful look. "Am I to understand that those Stones represent those three traits, and Lady is the bearer for them?"

"Yes, for what she carries are the greatest weapons of the Light," Gandalf spoke up. "Courage, Friendship and Hope are three of them, and also Kindness, Knowledge and Reliability. These are the things that will turn back the Shadow, for they shine within our hearts and help us to carry on when all hope seems lost… And I fear that we shall need them in order to face the storm of darkness that is to come." The Wizard stared at a place over my head, beyond even the walls of the fortress, to something that only he could see. "The darkness that is to come," he repeated slowly, and I felt a strange chill settle within my heart. Gandalf would say no more for the rest of the night, and we none of us pressed him to.

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**The End…. Of Wolflight. Watch out for Wolfsong!  
**

**RK9.**

**UPDATE 4 Nov 08 for Kaisaan** - Oh, I didn't know that you couldn't get my email... sorry Kaisaan! My email is taeshan9466 (at) hotmail (dot) com. Just replace "at" with the curly 'a' symbol and "dot" with a, well, dot. Now you can email me. LOL, get an ff dot net account, why don't ya? I did not just to publish stuff, but to keep track of my favorite fics and receive story alerts for when people updated. It is free, after all. But well, you don't have to if you don't want to.


	28. Wolfsong: Prologue

**Wolfsong**

**Disclaimer:** Nope, I still don't own Lord of the Rings, or any of the characters from the world Mr Tolkien created. Really, the day I do, you'll be the first to know, since I'll shout it from the rooftops and mountains until the whole world knows. ;) But Lady is mine, thank you, as is the plot of this little fic. The song is "With All Your Heart", performed by Plus One for the Pokemon 2000 movie soundtrack.

**Author's notes: **Well, here's the Prologue as promised. Many thanks to my dear beta FairOphelia, she's having some computer troubles, which is why she took so long to get back to me. Thanks to all who have been waiting so patiently for me to get back - today I will upload the Prologue, and chapters 1 and 2 because I will be away for a short camp, from the 13th to 18th of December... and I'm sorry to give you all such a slow start after a long wait, but please bear with me - the action will start later, there isn't much I can do but follow the storyline for now. In fact, I worry that I'm deviating too much from the storyline in later chapters... but I figure if you wanted to watch the movie again, you'd get the DVDs rather than read my fic, right?

I know the previous story ended rather abruptly, but it was a middle, and though I didn't want to end it where the movies ended, I decided to in the end. Like Peter Jackson, I felt it would be anti-climactic to end with Saruman's death after the battle of Helm's Deep had been won. Maybe I was wrong… but anyway, we begin again with Wolfsong, the third and probably longest part.

I'm sorry to report a mild case of writer's block - not the traditional sense where I have no idea how to proceed, but in this case, there are too many ways I could go on and I have no idea which one to choose, though I know where I want to go... does that make sense? Don't worry though, I'll keep at it. I have no intention on giving up on this story, and I'll do my best to get past this.

Many thanks to all who reviewed, and to Kaisaan, who helped me figure out Lady's real name. :) No, my internet is still down... I'm at my grandmother's for today so I can load some chapters. Take care, everyone, and I hope you're all still here and will keep reading!

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**Prologue**

_You make this world a better place  
When you try your best each day  
Just listen and your heart will show the way  
It will make you strong inside  
Every time you do what's right  
In a time of darkness you'll find light_

_You'll find you have the courage within  
To fight for what you truly believe in _

_With all your heart  
I know you can do anything  
With a little faith you can reach right up to  
The highest star_

_There's no mountain you can't climb  
Just look inside your heart you'll find  
The strength inside  
All you have to do is try  
With all your heart _

_There's a difference you can make  
So never underestimate  
The power of what one can really do  
Nothing's going stand in your way  
Cause now you know you've got what it takes  
To save the day _

_With all your heart  
I know you can do anything  
With a little faith you can reach right up to  
The highest star _

_There's no mountain you can't climb  
Just look inside your heart you'll find  
The strength inside  
All you have to do is try  
With all your heart _

_If you start to stumble  
And if you start to fall  
Just keep reaching for your dreams  
And know you're going to catch them all _

_With all your heart  
(With all your heart)  
You know you can do anything  
With a little faith you can reach right up to  
The highest star _

_There's no mountain you can't climb  
Just look inside your heart you'll find  
The strength inside  
All you have to do is try  
With all your heart _

_- With All Your Heart, performed by Plus One for the Pokemon Movie 2000 soundtrack_

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RK9.


	29. Isengard: Part One

**Author's notes: **I cannot take credit for Treebeard's description – I got it from a website, and modified it a little. I didn't have the LOTR books with me at the time I wrote it. As for the Elven funeral rites – couldn't find anything about them online, if in fact there are any, so I made it up. Hopefully it's acceptable, and if you know the real Elven funeral rites, let me know! If possible, please link me to a site so I can study them.

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**Chapter 1**

A little more than a week since we had left it, we now found ourselves traveling through the forest of Fangorn once again, though in a different area of it. A day's ride from the Hornburg, it was apparently a shortcut that would bring us to Isengard sooner rather than later.

Gandalf, the Wizard, led the way on his mighty horse Shadowfax, the white stallion whom no other horse the world over could ever hope to match. Théoden-King rode behind him, followed by his nephew Éomer on his horse Firefoot, and of course, Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli and me.

I was the only one not on a horse, and currently trying not to run crookedly. Half of the fur had been pulled off my tail from an incident with a fallen tree a few days ago, and my balance was a little off because of it. I could keep straight as long as I stayed focused on my path, but if I let my mind wander for even a few minutes – bam! Straight into a tree, muzzle first, and let me tell you, the trees in Fangorn don't like it when some clumsy wolf crashes into them, accident or no accident.

The battle of Helm's Deep had been over for two days now – we had taken one day to clear up after the battle, and helped to settle the people and pack up; for with the victory they were planning to return to Edoras, the city they had abandoned in fear not too long ago. I had spent the whole of yesterday with Legolas and my friends. The Elf had lost two hundred of his kinsmen in the battle: the entire battalion of Elves who had come from Lothlorien to fight alongside the Men of Rohan, and he had been trying to perform the cleansing rituals for his fallen friends. Alone, until Aragorn had gone to help, but though Legolas had allowed this, he politely declined Gimli's and my own offer of help – for we did not know the Elven customs anyway, and would probably have been more hindrance than help. Since neither the Dwarf nor I were willing to risk messing up an important Elven funeral rite by insisting on helping out anyway, we reluctantly acquiesced to Legolas' only directive, and divided our time instead between helping the people of Rohan, resting for the journey to come, and hovering around the room where the Elves' bodies had been laid in all due honor, giving our Elven friend much needed support with our presence and our friendship.

Now, the shade of the forest was soothing in the noon heat, and Gandalf slowed our pace as we drew nearer to Isengard. Through the trees, I was getting my first glimpses of a tall tower made of some sort of black stone, and I could smell trees and hear the musical song of free-flowing water. And above it all, an acrid, smoky scent burned into my nostrils, and I frowned as I struggled to figure out what it was…

Wait. Another scent drifted by, almost but not quite overpowering the first scent. I sniffed hard, and the wolf's attention was suddenly captured, yanked towards it as though pulled by a leash.

Was that _salted pork _I could smell out there?

My mouth began to water, my tail started wagging. And then, familiar voices that I had not heard for far too long drifted into my pricked ears, and I darted forward, passing the horses in my enthusiasm. My ears were listening eagerly, and not too far away two voices drifted over to me, carried by the wind.

"_I feel like I'm back at the Green Dragon, a mug of ale in my hand, putting my feet up on a settle after a hard day's work." _

"_Only, you've never done a hard day's work." _

And as the two speakers began to laugh in short, giggling bursts, I broke through the undergrowth and bushes, and skidded to a halt in amazement and joy.

On the wall of Isengard sat two small yet valiant creatures whom I had not seen since we had left Amon Hen, with pipes in hand and the remnants of a feast not too far from them. Merry and Pippin – for there could not be any other Hobbits this far South, and clad in the gray cloaks of Lorien the fair - were sharing a moment of frivolity, but stopped as they caught sight of me, and I became aware of the joyous blue glow of Friendship surrounding them and myself as they waved merrily and exclaimed: "Lady!"

Then Merry looked up, and caught sight of the other Riders, who had quickened their pace again to follow me. In a trice, the slightly tipsy Hobbit leapt to his feet and bowed deeply to Gandalf and the others the moment they rode into sight.

"Welcome, my lords," he began dramatically, words slightly slurred but still bright and cheerful, "To Isengard!"

It wasn't exactly the sort of welcome that I'd imagined would be waiting for us here at Saruman's home base, but I didn't think any of us minded.

Merry did a sort of wave with his hand towards the general direction of the black tower behind him, almost staggering off-balance as he did so. Pippin grinned, munching nonchalantly on a piece of salted pork as he sat nearby.

Gimli could bear it no longer. Probably thinking along the same lines as I had been, he exclaimed: "You young rascals! A merry hunt you've led us on, and now we find you feasting, and, and - smoking! Where did you come by the weed?"

Here the two Hobbits grinned at each other as though sharing a secret. Pippin swallowed his pork, looked mischievously at the Dwarf, and answered, "We are sitting on a field of victory, enjoying a few well-earned comforts." He raised the slice in his hand in a cheeky salute, grin growing wider. "The salted pork, is particularly good."

"Salted pork?" Gimli's eyes were wide in his rough face, and he swallowed as he eyed the slice of meat that Pippin was holding up. Behind him, I could see King Théoden and Éomer gazing at the hobbits with open curiosity, and Legolas and Aragorn were smiling. Aragorn shook his head affectionately at Merry and Pippin, but Gandalf was rolling his eyes towards heaven and muttering, "Hobbits," in a tone that, though mildly fond, sounded hardly complimentary.

The fact that he now had a larger audience seemed to please Merry, who drew himself up grandly and continued: "We're under orders from Treebeard, who's taken over management of Isengard."

"Who's Treebeard?" Gimli wanted to know, and I tilted my head questioningly at Merry.

"He's an Ent," answered Pippin proudly. "A tree-herder, Merry says. Right out of the old tales!"

This part confused me – why would anyone want to herd _trees_? But as we rode past the gates, with the new self-proclaimed gatekeepers – Merry rode behind Éomer, who was more than willing to carry him after introductions were made, and Pippin with Aragorn – I caught sight of Treebeard himself, and suddenly understood.

He was, quite literally, a walking tree. He stood about fourteen feet tall, and had big feet with seven root-like toes each. The skin on his arms was smooth and brown, and his body was clad in a green and gray substance like bark. A bushy gray beard that appeared to be made of twigs and moss hung from what was apparently his face, and he had deep, penetrating eyes that were brown, suffused with green light. Looking into them, I felt as though there was an enormous well behind them, filled up with ages of memory and long, slow, steady thinking; but their surface was sparkling with the present: like sun shimmering on the outer leaves of a vast tree, or on the ripples of a very deep lake. And now that same steady gaze was regarding me thoughtfully, for quite a long time, before nodding and saying but one word: "Ah." And the wizard spoke up on my behalf, telling Treebeard that I was a friend to all Nature, and that was all that the ancient being needed to know.

Giving Treebeard a respectful nod, I splashed my way forward through the water – it seemed the river had been released from a dam on the other side of Isengard, and so the fires that had been burning below to create Saruman's fighting Uruk-Hai and their weapons had been quenched beyond restoration. The water was slow to flow out, but I sensed the river was happy, for it had been freed, and had been able to help in the battle against the one who had imprisoned it, the one who had been responsible for the killing of the trees of Fangorn. Bits of wood and machinery floated past in the water, and some broken wooden towers stood sadly near the tall tower of black stone. Orthanc, Gandalf called it, and it was in this tower that Saruman the White dwelt now in defeat.

"Hm," boomed Treebeard in his deep voice, a sound that reminded me instantly of the trees of Fangorn, a solid, earthy rumble that felt warm and somehow familiar. The Ent was addressing Gandalf, and I could actually see a smile upon the bark-skinned face.

"Young Master Gandalf, I'm glad you've come," he boomed earnestly, and it tickled me a little that he thought Gandalf 'young'. "Wood and water, stock and stone I can master. But there is a Wizard to manage here – locked in his tower."

At those words, the lightness of heart that we had gotten from our meeting with Merry and Pippin dwindled slowly into a gut-eating, spine-chilling tension that thickened the air around us. Gimli eyed the tower uneasily, and Legolas' hands tightened on the reins. Aragorn glanced around, gaze shifting in the style that I'd come to recognize was used by the Ranger in order to keep an eye on his environment and remain alert to incoming danger. The two Rohirrim shifted in their saddles, and my fur bristled with a strange mixture of defiance and fear. Something was coming; I sensed somehow that I was about to face one of the greatest tests I had yet to endure. Only Gandalf seemed unaffected. Nodding to Treebeard, he murmured to the rest of us:

"Be careful. Even in defeat, Saruman is dangerous."

"Well, let's just have his head and be done with it," grumbled Gimli in the general direction of Legolas' back.

"No!" Gandalf countered swiftly. "We need him alive. We need him to _talk_."

And that was when Saruman chose to reveal himself. There was no warning, no dramatic entrance, no clap of thunder followed by lightning – just the sudden appearance of a tall, lean Wizard with white hair, beard and robe, far away at the top of the tower. Yet, the color of his white seemed off somehow, slightly yellowed, as though tainted in a way – or at least, that was how it looked to my eyes – and there were still a few lines of black in his hair and beard. I don't know if my companions saw all this, but I did, and I thought it made sense. Saruman had betrayed his friends, betrayed the White Council and all the free peoples of Middle-Earth. Of course he was tainted. I didn't see how Gandalf expected him to cooperate or answer any questions we had.

Yet it was not to Gandalf that he spoke first, but to Théoden. Leaning nonchalantly on his staff, as though he hadn't been solely – or at least _largely_ - responsible for the blood and death that hung now like a storm cloud over Rohan, his words fell like rain in a curiously gentle shower, deceptively calm and soothing and curious. At my throat, the Stone of Friendship was starting to burn fiercely and the Stone of Courage was not far behind. The warmth of the Stones steadied me somewhat, and I crouched lower in the water, ignoring the cooling touch of the river in favor of this strong warmth that was bolstering my spirit and soothing away the tension that was pooling inside my stomach.

"You have fought many wars and slain many men, Théoden-King, and made peace afterwards." Saruman gazed down, apparently feeling safe and superior where he was atop the tower of Orthanc. "Can we not take counsel together as we once did, my old friend? Can we not have peace, you and I?"

The guy had some nerve! I growled, low in my throat, and felt rather than heard a rumble of agreement from Treebeard, though the big Ent made no other sound. Turning to the King, I watched as Théoden swallowed hard before looking up at Saruman.

"We shall have peace."

I don't know what I expected to hear, but that calm statement was sure not on the list. But as Théoden continued, my surprise fell away. The King had not finished.

"We shall have peace, when you answer for the burning of the Westfold, and the children that lie dead there! We shall have peace when the lives of the soldiers whose bodies were hewn even as they lay dead against the gates of the Hornburg are avenged!" Théoden's voice went up in volume and anger, his eyes smoldering like the embers of a fire that had long been burning. "When you hang from a gibbet, for the sport of your own crows, we shall have peace!"

Saruman's face darkened, like the sky before a storm. "Gibbets and crows?" he spat at Théoden. "Dotard!" He looked angry now, and he turned swiftly to his next target: Gandalf.

"What do _you_ want, Gandalf Grayhame? Let me guess? The Key of Orthanc? Or perhaps the Keys of Barad-Dur itself, along with the crowns of the seven Kings and the rods of the Five Wizards?" he spat out, so furious towards the end that he seemed unable to speak.

Gandalf faced him without fear, and something like pity in his eyes. "Your treachery has already cost us many lives, Saruman," he stated sadly. "Thousands more are now at risk. But you could save them, Saruman. You were deep in the Enemy's counsel."

Saruman's eyes glittered. "So, you have come for information. Very well, I have some for you." And with a flourish that unleashed a song of doom and darkness inside my head, he whipped out from beneath his robe what appeared to be a small glass globe the color of rust, and within this receptacle glowed an ominous, dark brownish-red light.

Whispers clouded my mind, a strange yet familiar murmuring that I had heard only once before – the voice of the Stone of Knowledge, my most recent acquisition. Before though, the words had been indiscernible, or in a strange language that I didn't know - but now I heard actual words.

'_Tall ships and tall kings,__  
Three times three,__  
What brought they from the foundered land__  
Over the flowing sea?__  
Seven stars and seven stones  
And one white tree.'_

Seven _Stones_? I frowned, and the voice seemed to nod a little in confirmation before it went on:

'_Palantír, palantír! One of the Seeing Stones.'_

Was that what it was called? A palantír? Such a strange thing…

Gandalf sucked in a sudden intake of breath, and his gaze never left the top of the tower. Saruman smiled a smile of bitter triumph as he gazed into the Stone, and I saw shadow and flames licking around within it. The White Wizard spoke.

"Something festers in the heart of Middle-earth, Gandalf. Something that you have failed to see. But the Great Eye has seen it. Even now he presses his advantage. His attack will come soon. You're all going to _die_. But you know this, don't you, Gandalf?" He chuckled without humor, his gaze flickering to Aragorn with the hint of a sneer on his face. "You cannot think that this Ranger will ever sit upon the throne of Gondor. This _exile_, crept from the shadows, will never be crowned king. Gandalf does not hesitate to sacrifice those closest to him, those he professes to love. Tell me, what words of comfort did you give the Halfling, before you sent him to his doom? The path that you have set him on can only lead to death…"

"I've heard enough," growled Gimli, cutting off the flow of words with his rough, rumbling voice. The Dwarf turned to Legolas, nudging him a little as he urged, "Shoot him! Stick an arrow in his gob."

Legolas slowly reached behind him, apparently in agreement with the Dwarf's plan, but Gandalf again shook his head. "No." The Elf hesitated, but obeyed, letting his fingers fall away from his bow.

Above us, Saruman laughed mockingly. "Still hoping for information? Well then – you, Wolf."

I froze, looking up warily. Was he talking to me?

"Yes, you," Saruman went on, a trifle impatiently. "I have information you should hear. The Wizard has been lying to you, little child of the Shadow. There is nothing special about you whatsoever, and for as long as you remain with him and these others, you will always be a danger to them…and to yourself as well." His gaze met mine, and fool that I was, I allowed myself to look straight into his eyes, and was almost instantly mesmerized by the spell of deceit and doubt he was trying to trap me in.

"Come to the side that will reward you with power and glory, little one," he said, coaxingly. "Let the wolf follow her master, and the riches you gain will be great. Why, you might even regain your true form…" He must have seen me jerk in surprise as my deepest desire was revealed, and he smiled, continuing in that same honey-soaked voice: "Has the Wizard told you that by destroying the One Ring, you will be able to regain your former body once more? _He lied_. He knows as well as I do, that the spell that holds you now in this form of mixed Shadow and Light can never be reversed, not even if you destroyed all of Mordor, or even Sauron himself. Ask him! Did you not tell her, Gandalf? Why, she does not seem to know…"

My Wizard friend turned to me in silence, a strange look in his eyes, and I looked back at him, confused. Was it true? Gandalf?

But before the darkness of doubt could cloud my mind, a sudden purple glow exploded forth from the Stone of Knowledge on my collar. The whispers grew louder, fiercer, though this anger was not directed at me, but at Saruman atop his dark tower. They grew louder, louder, until I could call them whispers no longer, but near-shouts.

'_Lies, lies! Do not doubt - this is all he is reduced to in defeat, this is the only power he has left: the power to spread lies and deceit. Don't believe him! Trust in your friends, believe in their love for you….Do not let him stagger your faith in those who love you….'_

Saruman gave a cry of anger, throwing up his hand as though to shield himself, as the light of Knowledge and Friendship that shone from my collar came together in a dazzling ray of blue and rich purple. A knowing smile crossed Gandalf's face as the light arced up from my body, up, up towards the top of Orthanc, to surround Saruman and push him back. Straightening, head and tail high, I waded forward through the water to stand by Gandalf and Aragorn, and I felt my eyes light up as the unknown instinct that sometimes guided me in times of need led my gaze up towards this corrupted White Wizard.

"Saruman," my Wizard friend said quietly, yet with a power in his voice that could not be denied, "Your staff is broken."

Almost instantly, the light seemed to break and fade, and the dark staff in Saruman's hand instantly exploded and shattered into millions of tiny black shards that disappeared into the air, carried away on an unseen wind. Thus Saruman the White was cast from the White Council by Gandalf, and his power broken before our eyes on that very day.

And the remnants of the light of Knowledge and Friendship fell around me and my friends in a sparkling rain of glimmering starshine, and I wondered how my trust and faith had ever wavered. Guiltily, I looked up at Gandalf beside me on the noble Shadowfax, and the Wizard nodded and smiled down at me with such gentleness that I felt my heart would break. I knew then that he had seen my moment of weakness, but I was already forgiven, and humility seared through to my soul.

But our errand here was not yet over.

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	30. Isengard: Part Two

**Author's note: **I finally gave a name to an OC that I introduced in Wolflight - I decided he should play more of a role, because I liked him. I imagine him as a sort of younger, longer haired version of Myles Pollard, the actor who plays Nick Ryan in McLeod's Daughters - and uh, no, I only watch that because my mom and aunt do, honestly! LOL. You can google his picture, no problem.

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**Chapter 2**

There was still the matter of the Wizard to handle before we did anything else. The wolf spotted movement behind him, even at the great distance, and a crumpled figure emerged pitifully from within the tower, looking terribly different from when we had seen him last. He looked as though he had been ill-treated by the one he called 'Master', cowering and cringing even under the light of the sun. Théoden saw him also, and I saw pity in his eyes for his former advisor.

"Gríma!" he called up, and the snake – no, now more of a worm that was to be pitied – flickered surprised black optics to the King of Rohan. Determined, Théoden pressed on. "You need not follow him, Gríma. You were not always as you are now. You were once a Man of Rohan! Come down!"

At this selfless promise of forgiveness and reacceptance into the fold, I saw the faintest glimmer of hope lighting up Gríma's near-lifeless black gaze. But then, Saruman spoke, and the sneer in his voice promptly buried it again deep within the wells of self-hatred and fear.

"Man of Rohan," spat Saruman, with a derisive chuckle. "What is the house of Rohan, but a thatched barn where brigands drink in the reek, and their brats roll on the floor with dogs? The victory at Helm's Deep does not belong to you, Théoden Horse-master. You are a lesser son of greater sires."

Théoden's face twitched, but he managed to ignore Saruman's spiteful jibes, focusing instead on Gríma. "Gríma, come down! Be free of him."

"Free? He will never be free." Saruman grinned maliciously. "Worm has done too many things, hasn't he, Worm? He's killed and betrayed, and done worse than that even… haven't you, Worm?" He aimed a kick at Gríma, who fell to the ground. He looked up at Saruman, and I couldn't tell who the sorry ex-advisor hated more – the former White Wizard, or himself.

"No," Gríma cried. "You made me do it, you told me to!"

"Get down, cur!" snarled Saruman, lashing out and hitting the pathetic creature in the face. Wormtongue went down, and from then, everything was a mere blur of motion. I saw silver flash from under the tattered black robes, and the former Man of Rohan got so quickly to his feet that he was a blur. Saruman, who had turned back towards us, gave a sudden gasp; silver flashed twice more, and Legolas' bow twanged as an arrow flew from it. Gríma fell heavily, clutching at the shaft of wood which had penetrated his heart, killing him instantly. The Elf looked rather stunned; he'd been acting solely on instinct, but he hadn't meant to kill Gríma. But dead the Wormtongue was, and what was done was done. As for Saruman, stabbed three times in the back, he lost his balance and tumbled off the edge of Orthanc, tumbling head over heels towards the ground. He landed with a sickening, stabbing squelch on the spikes of one of his machines, a large wheel of some sort, and as we watched in horror, the wheel began to turn until Saruman's body had completely disappeared beneath the water. There was a sort of sigh from the river, and Treebeard commented solemnly: "The filth of Saruman is washing away. Trees will come back to live here, young trees, wild trees."

It was a wonderful sentiment. The enemy of Nature had in a way been executed on one of his own machines - though a cruel death it was all the same, and even I staggered back, wrenching my gaze from that horrible sight. But now the destruction Saruman had wrought would cease to be as Nature sought to put things right, re-growing the forest and restoring all that Saruman had tried to eradicate. But Gandalf had other things than the rebuilding of Fangorn on his mind.

"Send word to all our allies, and to every corner of Middle-earth that still stands free. The enemy moves against us. We need to know where he will strike," he said to Théoden and the others, turning Shadowfax.

There was a light splash. The Stone of Friendship gave a warning shimmer, but I too had seen Pippin sliding off Brego, Aragorn's horse. The Ranger looked alarmed, exclaiming, "Pippin!"

The hobbit made his way over to a spot in the water that glimmered and shone with a brownish-red light. Bending over, he reached underwater and emerged, dripping, but with his prize in hand – the palantír of Saruman, which must have rolled from the Wizard's body when the wheel had submerged him. He seemed mesmerized, gazing into the Seeing Stone with a transfixed expression, until Gandalf rode up to him and held out a hand, a rather stern expression on his face.

"Peregrin Took, I'll take that, my lad," he said, and Pippin looked up at him as though snapping out of a daze. Slowly, the hobbit handed the round stone to Gandalf, who quickly wrapped it up in his cloak and kept it away safely. There was a strange look on Pippin's face, and the whispers of the Stone of Knowledge grew softer, as though in warning. Still, it seemed to have nothing important to say, and so I thought no more of it as Pippin allowed Aragorn to help him back into the saddle. Gandalf took one last look around, gave some final instructions and thanks to Treebeard, and then we rode out of Isengard.

I for one, did not look back.

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Well, with Merry and Pippin among our company once again, the ride back to Edoras was definitely much more colorful. Riding in a loose group (with me running lightly alongside Brego and Arod) made conversation a little difficult, but it certainly didn't stop either hobbit from eagerly recounting the tales of all that had happened to them since they had been taken by the Uruk-Hai, calling out their tale over the rushing of the wind. They sobered a little when Aragorn told them of Boromir's death, but cheered up again as the Ranger went on to tell a little of what had been happening since we had set out from Amon Hen to find them. It was refreshing to have them with us again, and it lifted my spirits greatly, even though I was also worried about the darkness I sensed rising in the east.

As evening descended in a blanket of fading orange-purple, we reached Edoras to find that almost all the people had arrived from Helm's Deep, except for some of the older folk and women with children, and the men who were with them. Théoden-King kindly said that we could stay in Meduseld with him and his family again, and no mention was made of the last time I had stayed with them, although I for one remembered it clearly. It frightened me, the idea that it might happen again, but Gandalf reassured me, turning silently to me with a look in his gray eyes that said it would be all right: that _I_ would be all right, and comforted, I followed my friends towards the Golden Hall. A Rider met us on our way in, and my ears pricked as I recognized him: the curly-haired young man whom I had first met in Éomer's camp, the one who had helped me in the Glittering Caves. He bowed to his King and Third Marshal, greeting the rest of us with respectful nods.

"Welcome back, sire," he said to Théoden, eyes quiet and blue. "I am Keldric, son of Cerdic, one of the Riders under Lord Erkenbrand's command…"

Théoden nodded to him with a smile. "Yes, I know of you, lad. Did Erkenbrand send you here with a message?"

Keldric's face flushed as his King addressed him directly, but he managed to keep his composure enough to answer, "Yes, sire. He said to tell you that the only ones who have not yet returned from the keep are Lord Oeric and Lord Thunor, and some of their men, but we have received word that they will reach Edoras by tomorrow afternoon at the latest. And Lady Éowyn sends word that she is almost done with the preparations for tomorrow's feast, as you requested, sire."

The King nodded again, acknowledging that he had heard. "Thank you, Keldric. Are you too tired to take a message back to Lord Erkenbrand for me?"

"No, sire, of course not." The Rider looked quietly at his King, though even I could see the exhausted lines in his face. "What is the message?"

"Merely that I would like to see him tonight in the meeting hall," answered Théoden, and then, he added kindly, "And when you have delivered that message, lad, you should return to your family home and rest. You look about to fall off your horse."

A slow smile crossed the tired face. "Thank you for your concern, sire, but it truly is unnecessary. Still, I promise I will rest, as soon as I have finished helping Lord Erkenbrand as much as I can." And then, with a final, respectful bow, he turned his mare and went galloping towards the hall.

Watching him leave, Éomer said fondly: "There goes a good lad, uncle. As good a Rider as his father was, and with his mother's selfless heart."

"Aye," Théoden agreed. "You might mention to Erkenbrand to make sure he does rest though – if he's anything like Cerdic was, he'll work himself into the ground before he stops."

"He is, and I will," Éomer nodded, glancing after the boy again.

Both King and Third Marshal had thoughtful smiles on their faces as they led the way towards the stables, where men were waiting to take our horses and settle them down for a good rest in their stalls. As my friends dismounted, a familiar figure in a green dress with a golden sash came running to greet us, hugging her uncle and brother with loving enthusiasm, heedless of the fact that we all currently stank of horse and travel-sweat.

"Welcome back, all of you," Éowyn greeted us warmly, her fair face lit with happiness, and then she turned to Aragorn and gave him a different sort of smile, one that I as a female recognized instantly. Raising a speculative eyebrow, I wondered if the Ranger knew that she felt _that_ way about him… and what he was doing about it if he did. This infatuation – and it was pretty obvious to me at least that that was what it was - must have been growing slowly ever since she had first met him, that day a little over a week ago when we had arrived in Edoras and saved Théoden from Saruman's spellcraft. Well, the Lady of Rohan had been spending all her time with my friends during their journey from Edoras to Helm's Deep, and then later in the caves… so I suppose it made sense that she'd have fallen for Aragorn. As Men go, he was one of the finer examples, and had he not been such a dear friend even _I_ might have fallen for him – though I hadn't, and never would, thank you very much.

We walked the short distance from the stables to the steps that led to the halls, where Merry and Pippin got their first real glimpse of Edoras from the landing just before the entrance to Meduseld. Their natural curiosity came to the fore almost immediately, and I could see them already making plans for exploring this new place the minute they got a chance to. But for now, we were all pretty tired, and so Éowyn led us to our sleeping chamber, a large room where sleeping rolls had been set out for my friends….and me, of course, for I would not be parted from Aragorn and the others, nor would anyone be unfeeling enough to attempt to separate me from them. Éowyn also pointed out where the bathing chambers were, near our quarters, in case any of us should feel the need to cleanse the travel dust from our grimy bodies, but though we thanked her, none of us took her up on her offer just yet. The sleeping rolls and blankets looked too inviting, and though at first we merely sat around and talked for a while, enjoying being back together again, it wasn't long before the lure of sleep had us all yawning widely, one by one. Gimli the Dwarf, surprisingly, was the first to give up all attempt at conversing and retire into his roll, becoming a snoring heap beneath his blankets – and after he succumbed the rest of us followed, one person at a time. I was surprised and pleased to find that a sleeping roll had also been provided for me, and so curled up happily near Aragorn and the hobbits.

The shadow of what had transpired under the roof of this hall not so long ago still haunted me despite my exhaustion, but I remembered the look in Gandalf's eyes and tried hard to put my fears behind me. I wouldn't betray my friends again, I would _not_! Striving hard, I struggled to remember what Gandalf had told me in Éomer's camp a few days ago, that I might remember that I was trusted, that I had no need to fear the wolf.

But I did fear her. Or maybe it was me that I feared. The last time I had failed, and had Gandalf not interfered I would probably have killed Éowyn, and all my friends as well. Or the wolf would have… Argh! Why was it all so confusing? The wolf, me; me, the wolf - who was who now? Were we two, or one? Two separate entities in one body, or some other kind of freak of nature? I referred to myself as the wolf, didn't I? I _was_ a wolf, wasn't I? But no, I hadn't been born a wolf…

My Ranger companion stirred in his sleep, and I went still, thoughts cut off halfway. Had I woken him? His eyes looked half-open, and yet he did not seem to be awake. I peered carefully at him, and jerked as his hand came up unexpectedly and settled on my head. Only then did the gray orbs open fully, fastening on my face, and he groaned a little, the kind of sound that a person makes when they awaken too suddenly from a deep slumber.

"Go to sleep, Lady," he told me blearily, blinking a little in the darkness, before meeting my eyes. "Don't worry. We're all here for you."

Well, I knew _that._ They trusted me, and I still believed that it was more than I deserved. Releasing a sigh that was heavy with the fog of doubt and despair, I snuggled closer to Aragorn's warmth and breathed in his comforting scent. Around me, I could hear the sounds of my friends in slumber, and for a moment, I could actually close my eyes and imagine that we were back in Lorien again, as a complete Fellowship, all recovering together in the restfulness of the Golden Wood while not losing sight of that common goal that we had sworn to complete. I held on desperately to the nostalgic feelings those memories brought up, silently begging sleep to drag me down into blissful nothingness.

Tomorrow, the dawn would come, and the night would brighten into day, and perhaps forgiveness and hope would come with the rising of the sun.

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Hope that tides everyone over until I get back from camp! I'll keep working on the next part - I'm up to chapter 7! Take care, everyone!

RK9.


	31. Lessons Relearned

**Disclaimer: **The usual jingle - not mine, never will be.

**Author's notes: **Thought I'd get this up for Christmas, along with Chapter 4. I'm still stuck on chapter 7, but I feel more optimistic because I now have a definite plot in mind - it's just that whatever I write looks like crap to me, with my high-quality standards I set for myself here, so I keep deleting and re-doing what I've written out. I just keep thinking it's not as good as I could write it, or that the quality has dropped... but I'll keep at it. Anyway, two chapters for one Christmas Eve update, so... enjoy. :) This one though, is mostly because I felt Lady had to remember some things... hope you all enjoy anyway.

Merry Christmas!

**Review responses:**

**Fire's Fury aka dansa** - Well. I haven't decided yet if she'll get her old body back... but yeah, I'm leaning towards yes, maybe, and most likely. ;) Merry Christmas to you too!

**Inspired Butterfly (name didn't appear last time, sorry) **- I actually wrote them as two separate chapters, but when I titled them here I decided to call them Part 1 and Part 2. Look at them however you want to, haha. ;) But no, that wasn't dangergurl's OC - Keldric is my own character, created in Wolflight - read back again, especially the parts in the camp about the young Rohirrim whom Lady bumped into, not once, but twice... second time was in the caves, when she woke up and he helped her with Aragorn's cloak. Remember him now? He was there before I started the contest... anyway, when I introduce her OC, I wouldn't do it without crediting her and making sure everyone knows it's her OC and not mine. And yeah, I had a blast at camp, and thanks, I do feel better. :)

(SPOILERS AHEAD)  
If you like Aragorn/Lady moments, I guess you'll like what I have planned for her, though it isn't intended to be anything more than friendship. Lady's going to be very close to Aragorn soon, is all I can say, she's going to need him and he's going to need her.  
(SPOILERS END)

**Kaisaan** - Got your email! Haha. I think I answered your questions there. :)

**ShadowPhoenix17** - I don't remember replying you... sorry if I did. I think I'm somewhere between yes, maybe and most likely on changing Lady back. It wasn't Saruman who changed her, it was another wizard through Sauron's powers... which is why Saruman's death didn't affect her one way or another. I did mention this in the Prologue, so yeah... And also in another chapter, I mentioned that Tanana had asked her to undertake this quest, because one of the only ways to change her back might possibly be the destruction of Sauron through the destruction of the Ring... so yeah. Maybe now you understand a little better as to how Lady might still change back to human form? It wasn't Saruman's power that made her a wolf, it was Sauron's, even used indirectly by the wizard... so yeah. Go back and reread if you still need to clear things up, eh? :)

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**Chapter 3**

_My eyes were shut in sleep as I landed on dream-soft earth and grass, but from the scents and sounds of the forest around me I instinctively knew where I was, and this realization prompted me to slowly open my eyes and look around with mild surprise at the dreamscape that I had come to know and love, the realm of Ethyliss the Nature Spirit. In this forest I had received six of the nine Stones that were the greatest weapons of the Light, and I had learned much about them and the traits they represented from the voice of Ethyliss herself, who had become a friend and guide even within such a relatively short span of time. Yes, this forest held mostly good memories, and now it was being restored slowly, tree by tree, and I hoped that soon it would be as green and peaceful again as it had once been. _

_I stood on the edge of a cliff, by a small pool of crystal water, and orange-purple dusk had fallen in the dreamscape. There was something wrong with my vision, and it took me a moment to discover what it was… _

_It was as though I was looking at the world around me through two different sets of eyes: one the watchful, merciless stare of the wolf that I had been living as for the past sixty-odd years, and the other, the bright-eyed gaze of the curious young half-Elven girl whom I had once been, a being of mixed heritage and solitary sadness. Blinking hard, I squeezed my eyelids tightly together, but no matter how hard I tried I just could_ not_ get the two sets of vision to combine, no matter how I struggled and attempted to force them together. Giving up after a while, I gave in and sighed, looking uncertainly around for Ethyliss. It was funny how she wasn't here yet. The Nature Spirit would usually be here to meet me and speak to me by now, but she was strangely absent…though I did not suppose there was cause for worry, seeing as how this was her own world, and nothing could or would harm her here. Perhaps I was being a bit hasty – I had assumed that she had brought me here to receive another Stone, but since she wasn't here… _

_A soft sound caught my attention, and I turned, my mingled vision showing me two different views of the world around me at the same time, yet it didn't hinder my sight or distract me in any way. I could easily see where a mother rabbit and her brood of babies had emerged to play in the fading evening light, with the mother gazing around, alert for any signs of danger or threat to her children. The wolf stiffened, body instantly dropping lower into a hunting crouch – she was hungry, and even though this was merely a dream, her instincts were telling her to hunt and feed. She knew she wasn't the only predator to have noticed the rabbits – in a tree nearby was the hunched figure of a tawny goshawk, brilliant amber eyes intent on the little family in unwary play. The human in me had not noticed, but the wolf would never miss the threat to _her_ prey, and she also knew that he had seen her, too – seen _me_, which was the only reason why he had not yet made any moves. The day had yet to dawn when a hawk, however strong and tough, would challenge a wolf for prey. Eyes narrowed, I slunk carefully, silently, towards the bunnies, eyes fixed – even with this unnatural dual-vision – on one of the babies who had strayed just a little too far from his or her siblings. I kept an eye also on the mother rabbit, for small and fluffy as she looked, I knew those long hind legs of hers could pack a powerful wallop if she saw me coming. _

_Deeming myself close enough at last, I pounced - and suddenly I wasn't the wolf, but the baby rabbit, frozen with terror, paralyzed on the grass as the shadow grew over me, blocking out the last of the frail sunlight. The wolf was coming, and I saw the flash of her fangs and the glowing triumph in her golden-brown eyes… _

_My jaws snapped shut on air, and suddenly I was the wolf again, confused and thrown violently off-guard. What – for a moment there, it seemed that the rabbit and I had switched places, switched _minds_… _

_There was movement near me, the 'hop-hop-hop' of rapid bunny legs, and something slammed into my head hard enough to cause an explosion of stars and white light in my mind's eye. The mother rabbit stood fearlessly between me and her children, whiskers quivering and hind leg thumping the ground as though getting ready to leap up and kick me again. Focused on me as she was, she never saw the second shadow that swooped down from the trees while her back was turned, wings outstretched and talons flared, catching up her baby and carrying it away to its death. _

_Without warning, the scene changed, and I heard Ethyliss' voice echoing in my mind. _

_**- Do you remember, little one? - **_

_I was caught up, spun through the air and tossed, then caught again as helpless squeals and giggles escaped me. _

"_My little angel," my mother said, smiling at me as she sat my two-year-old self on the kitchen chair. "Another year and you'll be too big to throw and catch like that, little love. Are you ready to go herb-hunting with your Mama? One day you'll be a wonderful healer, little one, for you have the heart of one who loves to help those in need. Come, my beautiful one - the forest awaits us." _

_She lifted me up and set me on her hip, holding me securely with one arm while the other carried her basket, which would later be filled with herbs and plants that she needed for her work. She brought me with her each time she went out herb-hunting, even after I had left toddler-hood behind me and was well into my teens. Only once had Estel come with us, during one of his visits to our town, and he had been fascinated as my mother explained to him about the herbs she used and how she used them. I saw him now, in this strange dream-memory, and the scene changed to a different recollection that I still held dear even now, a memory of a time when we had rescued a kitten from some children who had been throwing stones at it._

"_Stop it! You'll kill it!" _

_Almost gone with rage and indignation on the kitten's behalf, I saw my younger self catching up a pebble to throw at the small cat's tormentors, only to stop as they ran away with frightened looks on their faces. She - _I_ couldn't throw it, I wasn't that mean or petty, and in the end, I just stood there, breathing hard, the pebble still clutched in my sweaty fingers. Then Estel was beside me, bringing my arm down and shaking his head gently as he led me away. We brought the kitten home with us, and without help from anyone else, we treated its wounds and bandaged it up correctly – though Estel had been the one who had primarily performed the healing operations, since he'd been older and had just a little more experience due to lessons from his father: the great Lord Elrond of Rivendell, renowned for his skill as a healer throughout both Elven and human society. The kitten had been fine after a week or two under our combined care – Estel had gotten permission to stay over at my home until it was healed – and we had released it into the care of a farmer who I knew would take good care of it. _

'The hands of the king are the hands of a healer, and so shall the rightful king be known,' _a new voice whispered in my mind as the memory faded into gray, and I recognized the murmur of the Stone of Knowledge, though not the doggerel that it went on to repeat several more times._

_Before I could do more than turn my head, the scene changed once more, and I found myself back in the dreamscape, crouched before the small, clear silver pool and the cliff's edge once again. My vision blurred and melted slowly together, and I found myself focusing on the first thing I saw – my reflection, in the glass-like surface of the pool. I froze at the sight – it was my face, my body, my reflected self…but half of the image was missing, as though someone had started painting a picture of me and left off after only one side was done. _

_The air beside me shimmered like a heat-mirage on a summer day, and Ethyliss appeared at long last. The dream felt like it was moving faster now, and my heart beat quicker as though to keep up with it. But the movement and speech of the Nature Spirit was slow and calm, and her sightless eyes looked deep into mine, stilling my fear and unease. _

_Why was I half? Why was I not whole? _

_**- You have come a long way, little one, but the distance you have covered will have no meaning if you reach your destination and forget where you started out from. - **__Ethyliss spoke gently, one of her long rush-like hands moving to tangle with my fur, stroking tenderly. __**- Before, I would have held back, but now I recognize the danger of leaving a situation like this to Fate alone, unguided by Knowledge. Child, you have forgotten something important. You no longer remember who you used to be, and who you are - and this cannot be allowed, for these are the two things that will determine who you will be in the future that is to come. And while who you will be may not be as important as who, say, Aragorn, will be, it is still important that you remember who you are. - **_

_But I did remember! My father was Saeduil Caellion, my mother was Annie of Tamra… _

_Ethyliss stopped me mid-thought with a sad smile and sorrowful laugh.__** - Yes, you remember your parents, little one, you remember whose child you are. But tell me, if you know exactly who and what you are, then why is it that you still fear yourself so much? -**_

_That made me freeze, staring up at her wide-eyed and slack-jawed. Dropping my head, my ears went flat, and I found that when I tried, I couldn't answer, either with my thoughts or my tongue. _

_Ethyliss nodded, and though her eyes were blind I could see the sympathetic tilt of her head and the understanding expression on her face.__** - You fear the wolf, and it is understandable that you do, for the events that transpired in Edoras not too long ago have made you absolutely terrified of her, and what she could do if ever she gained control again. - **_

_Well, of course I feared that! Wasn't it something to _be_ feared? Suddenly and unreasonably angry, I straightened, glaring at Ethyliss fiercely. I _was _the wolf! I had been a wolf for sixty-plus years now, and I knew exactly how her mind worked. I knew the tearing ferocity of her claws, the rippling strength of her body, the speed and agility and endurance that made her powerful, even by Nature's standards. I knew the crushing grip of her bite and the way her jaws could rip through flesh and bone in the blink of an eye. I knew her predator's instincts – I experienced them every time I went hunting, killing smaller animals and birds that I might survive. And each time I saw Aragorn's arm with its bandage, it was like a reminder of just how weak I had been, how badly I had failed, and I was scared that the next time, _next time_… _

_**- There won't **_**be**_** a next time, little one, -**__ Ethyliss interrupted patiently._

_How could she be so sure? How could I be sure? Calming down, I looked at her, no longer angry, just sad and scared and desperate. I had failed to fight the wolf the last time, and Aragorn had been hurt, and I'd attacked Gimli and Éowyn, and… _

_The blind gaze gentled, and I stopped thinking any further along those lines. Sighing a little, a sound like the autumn breeze, Ethyliss moved closer, and suddenly her fingers were caressing my fur once again, a cooling touch on my heated face and muzzle. _

_**- You did not understand what Gandalf was saying to you in the privacy of Éomer's encampment, little one, did you? Or you have forgotten, allowing your fear to dim the meaning behind his words to you. Little one, you are wolf right now, but you are also **_**peredhil**_**. You are human and Elf as well as wolf, and it is the blending of the three that you need to reconcile with and accept. You know the ways of darkness and the instincts of a predator because of the part of you that has been wolf for so long. But there is that within you which is also half-Elven, and it is this part which is the stronger. This is the part of you that feels compassion, love, and sadness, sympathy and gentleness, empathy and mercy…and all the other emotions in between that make our lives so colorful, that create the winding, up and down pathway that all of us have to walk in our lives. The wolf cannot see these things, she was not created to – and even if she did see them she would not understand them. **_

_**You are kind, little one, and sweet-natured. You have the sacrificial, serving heart of a healer and powerful traits like loyalty and determination within your soul. You trust a little too easily, but you also love deeply and empathize with those in need. You give strength to your friends when you can, even at great cost to yourself. The wolf would never do such things. You need not fear her seizing control, little one, for while the light shines within you and from you, she has not the strength to do so. And believe me, little one, the light is strong and bright inside of you, and your friends know this. That is why Gandalf knew that you would be all right. If you do not trust yourself, Lady, then trust your friends' judgment of you. And really, you need not consider yourself cursed, for in a way you have been blessed. You would not be the person you are today if you had not been given this chance to see through the wolf's eyes. You know what it is like to be predator, yes. You also know what it is like to be prey. But most important of all, you know what it is like to be **_**human**_**, to have the sentience to think, see and experience more in the world around you than wolf, hawk, rabbit or kitten ever will… - **_

_She trailed off, the smile in her voice appearing in life-sized reality on her face. I was trying to understand all that she had told me, gaping at her uncertainly from my lower viewpoint, ears and tail still drooping miserably. _

_**- I'll return you to your sleep, -**__ she told me unexpectedly, still smiling.__** - I know you have much to think about, but you'll have time for that, so worry not. For now, you can rest assured that you don't have to fear yourself any more, so why don't you take Aragorn's fine advice and sleep for the rest of the night? -**_

_And without waiting for my reply, she took a step back, waved her hand, and the bright light appeared to send me out of the dreamscape and back to my dreams… _

_**- Remember, daughter of Huan. There is no need to fear the darkness while the light still shines… - **_

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RK9.


	32. The Other

**Author's notes: **Finally, some action, lol. ;) Haha, hope it isn't _too_ slow-moving, but this is the pace I felt this part should take.

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**Chapter 4**

I jolted awake just in time to see the sun rising outside the window, and the image of a yellow sun rising above the mountains flickered through my mind like a glimmer of light on the water. The light of Hope spilled from the Stone on my collar, flowing with the sunlight to greet me with a warm touch on my sleep-ruffled fur as I stood and shook off the remnants of my dream. My friends seemed to have risen earlier, for around me were rumpled blankets and empty beds, but even as I started for the door, it burst open and Merry and Pippin came running in.

"Good morning, Lady!" Pippin greeted cheerfully, pouncing on me and hugging me tightly with the kind of exuberance and excitement one usually only saw in very young children, especially at this hour of the morning. "Rise and shine! Guess what? They have mushrooms for breakfast here, Lady! Mushrooms! Butter-fried and golden brown. Come along then – they won't let us start without you!"

Merry started tugging me towards the door, and I pretended to growl at them both as I dragged my paws, tugged along by their little hands. "Don't worry, Lady," the older hobbit was telling me as he yanked me along. "It doesn't matter if you don't eat mushrooms – Pip and I will gladly help to finish your share!"

Imps, both of them. I snorted, shaking out my fur again and licking the nearest hobbit ear. Breakfast didn't sound too bad, I supposed.

Ethyliss had given me plenty to think about, but somehow there was no time for me to ponder everything she'd said. All of Rohan was busy with preparations for the feast that was to be held later tonight, to celebrate the victory at Helm's Deep, and even if I wasn't actually helping out myself, I found myself more than occupied in staying out of people's way, and later in accompanying Merry and Pippin on an exploratory visit to the city, while Gandalf and the other three of my friends sat in council with the King. It took us most of the day to really look around, but finally near sundown, we returned, to prepare for the festivities of the night.

To my surprise, Éowyn was waiting for me when I returned to the room the Fellowship shared, and I dipped my head quickly to her in respectful greeting, remembering that this beautiful woman was the niece of a King – I had not spent enough time with her yet to consider her a friend, though we trusted each other, yes, and she had forgiven me for what I had almost done to her here, when the wolf had taken over. Merry and Pippin also bowed slightly where they were, until the White Lady of Rohan smiled and said, "No, there's no need for that, my friends," and motioned for them to straighten with a wave of her hand.

_Friends_. I felt my heart warm at the word, and lowered my head shyly.

"To what do we owe the honor of this visit, my Lady?" asked Merry, with the legendary conversational skills and good manners that seemed to have been instilled in all hobbits. Éowyn met his gaze, her smile growing wider on her face.

"I'm actually here to see Lady," she explained, and my eyebrows rose in open curiosity. Me? But why?

I followed Éowyn from the room at her request, and my confusion only increased as she led me to the bathing chambers for female guests, where a tub filled with warm water and scented oils awaited, steaming gently. A bath? I gave the water a dubious look. What in Arda – did she think I smelled bad?

"If what the Lord Aragorn has told me about you is true, Lady, then you are no true wolf, but a woman trapped in this form," Éowyn explained, the red on her face not completely caused by the steam from the tub. "I'm sorry…I hope I'm not being too presumptuous, but I thought that you might like to take a scented bath, and cleanse yourself for the feast tonight as the others are also doing? I mean – why should you not be given the chance to beautify yourself for tonight? All the women of the court will be doing so, as well as the men…." And it seemed to me that the regal lady of Rohan then held her breath and waited anxiously for my response.

I wasn't quite sure how to react, really. Sniffing the tub again as though hoping to gain an answer from the sweet floral scents or the rose petals that covered the surface of the water, I found that I couldn't remember the last time that I had had a bath like this drawn up for me. As a wolf, I hadn't exactly been living a life of luxury, and anyway, there had never been a need for me to have a bath – rivers and my tongue were the only tools of cleansing that I had needed since I'd been cursed. But I was… touched, to say the least, by Éowyn's sincere act of kindness, and I felt happiness spreading through me as the Stone of Kindness began to glow around my neck. Turning to her, fangs showing in a wolf smile, I wagged my tail and nodded eagerly, trying to convey my delight and genuine gratefulness for her offer. I didn't deserve such a luxury, but here she was offering it to me with no strings attached, out of the kindness of her heart. Éowyn beamed back at me, and before I knew it, she'd helped me out of my collar and into the tub, where the nicely warmed water reached up to my belly, and I was able to sink into the relaxing heat, a sigh of pleasure sliding out of me before I could stop myself. The Lady did not do me the indignity of washing me or scrubbing me – for I was, after all, not a dog - but she poured water over me and massaged some soaproot into my fur, and when the water grew cool, she helped me out and toweled me dry, and produced a brush which she ran through my fur until it shone with a glossy sheen. And to top it all off, after refastening my collar, she produced a beautiful hand-sewn green scarf the color of the Rohan flags, and wrapped it around my neck, tying it in a simple knot at my throat.

"You look beautiful, Lady," Éowyn proclaimed, an honest, sincere smile on her face as she led me to a long mirror so that I could see myself. I stared at my reflection anxiously: it was whole, unlike in the dream, and my usually scruffy fur was clean and brushed, and the scarf went well with my pelt coloration – probably chosen by Éowyn for that very reason. I swallowed hard – even if I'd been human, there wouldn't have been any words I could use to thank Éowyn for what she had given me today…because it wasn't just a bath and a scarf, but something more that I couldn't describe, and it gave me a warm, beautiful feeling deep inside. Turning, I licked her hand and tried to convey everything I felt inside in just one look, and she patted my head with a look of understanding.

This whole 'not-being-able-to-talk' thing had its drawbacks, but sometimes it was all right to express yourself without words. Here, Éowyn had just told me, in her own way, that she didn't see me as a creature any less human, no matter what my physical appearance might be at the moment, and she had made me feel like myself again for the first time in a long time. Not counting my friends and the Stones, it was one of the most precious gifts I'd ever received, and I was beyond grateful. Someday, I vowed, I'd find a way to repay her kindness to me, no matter what.

Making my way to the hall, I found my friends waiting for me, and the feast about to begin. The Fellowship ended up scattered through the hall, with Gimli and Legolas seated nearest the kegs of ale – apparently at Gimli's insistence – and the hobbits were with a group of Rohan men, entertaining them with their antics and eager tales of their home far away. Aragorn and Gandalf were both at the table nearest the King, though not side by side, and it was the Ranger to whom I went first, head and tail held up proudly as I trotted along. I could feel the stares of the Rohirrim, but I kept going towards my friend, who had noticed me and cleared a space by his seat for me. His warm silver gaze widened as he watched me approach, and when I reached him the first thing he did was reach for the scarf, fingering it a little, before he looked up and smiled.

"You look very nice, Lady," he said, and those five words were all it took for me to puff up with pride, relieved and rather pleased at his approval. And then the hall fell silent as Éowyn - now clad in a flowing, pale green-beige dress with hand-sewn patterns of gold thread - approached Théoden on his throne, bearing a large golden goblet in both hands, and thus officially began the feast as the shining cup passed from her to the King.

Éowyn then joined her brother behind the throne, and the entire hall rose. Théoden-King raised the cup high, saying clearly: "Tonight, we honor those who gave their blood to defend this country. Hail the victorious dead!"

The men raised their cups, echoing their King's actions, and cried, "Hail!" in one mighty voice. Then, they drained their mugs, and though I had no drink I kept my head raised respectfully, allowing myself to remember Helm's Deep, as I knew everyone else was doing. And though it seemed a short ceremony indeed, there was truly no need for any more or less, because we all knew why we were gathered here under the golden roof of Meduseld tonight, and it wasn't for the feast or the company, but rather for those who were not present with us tonight, and who should have been.

And with that little opening ceremony done, Théoden grinned unexpectedly, and called, "Now, let us celebrate!", a sentiment which the crowd greeted with a roar of approval that echoed in my ears even after the men had begun to eat and drink.

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After I had finished eating, I went around the hall to check on my friends. There was no real need to, I know, for they were none of them helpless children, but there was a need inside of me that compelled me to make sure that they were all right before I did anything else. I found Gimli and Legolas still by the ale kegs, in the middle of a drinking contest in which Gimli was gulping down mug after mug of the frothy amber liquid with more enthusiasm than etiquette, and Legolas was slowly but determinedly keeping up, throwing back the contents of each tankard with calm, graceful tilts of his head and determined swallows, as Éomer, the current master of the ale kegs, passed them to him. They were well-occupied and fine – though the morning might not look so bright for Gimli at the rate he was inhaling ale – and so I turned and headed in another direction. Merry and Pippin were in another part of the hall, dancing on the table to an energetic drinking song – one of their own compositions, unless I was very much mistaken – and I was finally satisfied as I saw Aragorn and Gandalf watching the hobbits not too far away in the middle of the crowd of men, murmuring softly to each other with smiles on their faces. Yes, my friends were all enjoying tonight, and now that the mother hen in me was pacified, I slipped away from the throng of merrymakers, and headed for a quieter corner of the hall.

It was here, where the sounds of the men feasting were dimmed to mere background noise, that I found the women and children. Not left out of the celebrations, no, but secluded in a corner where they could have fun their own way. The children, at least, could not be expected to join the men with all that alcohol flowing so freely, and the women would not leave their little ones alone – and so they were given their own area of the hall, and the two groups stayed together, though they did not mix much.

Uncertain of how these devoted mothers would react to the presence of a wolf among their children – I hadn't forgotten my experience in Lothlorien, and I did know more than most how fierce a mother's natural instincts could be when it came to protecting their young – I stopped by one of the hall's wooden pillars and observed silently. The children were as excited as their fathers, uncles and older brothers in the main area of the hall had been, though perhaps the full reason for this celebration of life and victory was a little beyond their understanding right now, and their mothers kept an eye on them from the tables, chit-chatting idly with the other women there. On every face I saw indulgent expressions of affection at the children's playful games and chatter, coupled with love and hope for the future and happy contentment. For them, the darkness and fear had passed, and they were looking forward to getting on with their lives. I understood that feeling, I truly did, and who was I to tell them that although we had won the battle, the war still carried on around us, albeit in different forms and guises? That would take away their hope, which was pretty fragile right now as it was… no, I hadn't the heart to do that, not now, not ever.

And then, as I stood there, deep in thought, the children noticed me, and a small group of them came running with delighted cries of: "Doggy!" Their mothers looked up, all frowning uncertainly, but I stood still and allowed the sticky little fingers and hands to tangle in my fur and rub over my body without a complaint. The children giggled and squealed, and their mothers relaxed – about three hairs, that is, but I understood. Had I been in their position, I wouldn't have been completely at ease with the idea of my son or daughter playing with a _wolf,_ either, even one who was a guest of the King.

Time could have stopped as I played with the children, and I probably wouldn't have noticed. After all the emotional upheaval and happenings of the past week, it was refreshing to be within the presence of such innocence and joy. The Shadow had not affected the children – well, it had, but I've found so far that children shake off the effects of darkness and despair more easily than adults sometimes. Their young souls have an abundance of faith and purity to protect them, and these things the darkness can never fully extinguish, not while hope stays strong in their hearts.

It was as I lay there panting, wondering how it was that I had run out of energy so quickly when the children were all still so awake and alive around me, that I saw her.

She stood there by the same pillar where I had first stopped to observe the little ones, and her eyes were bright and cheerful, blue as a lake in summer and shining with life and mischief… and at the same time clouded over with worry. Her hair was blonde and her skin was fair, with a light scattering of freckles giving color to her pale cheeks and arms. I looked at her, puzzled, wondering why she stood apart from the other children, why she had separated herself from the crowd. I wasn't even sure why she had caught my eye… and then she smiled hesitantly at me, and that bright blue gaze clashed with mine, and held me enthralled. I couldn't take my eyes off her somehow, and she couldn't take her eyes off me either. Heat came from the Stones at my neck – a warning?

And then, she held up one thin little arm, and from the end of her fingers dangled a familiar silver chain… and a small green Stone that winked at me in the light.

Time did stop, this time. Breath catching in my throat, my first thought was that she had somehow taken one of the five that were around my neck. But no, for none of them were that vivid, eye-catching green. This was a new Stone. And it _was_ a Stone – not a fake, not an imitation - because now as light spilled from the Stones around my neck, this one began to glow softly in response, blinking and flickering as though replying to a greeting. The little girl covered it quickly with her hand, hiding the brilliant green aura from the view of others, and glanced around furtively before slipping the chain over her head and pushing the green Stone under the front of her dress. She nodded to me, seeming to beckon without words or gestures, and before I could say or do anything she ran off, vanishing almost instantly into the crowd of adults and children. I heard her little feet pattering across the floor, fading into the noise of the feast that still went on around us, but stunned as I was, I did not immediately react. Then, spurred to my feet by instinct alone, and guided by that strange inner voice that usually showed up in connection to the Stones, I gently shook off the children that were still clinging to me, and rushed to follow her scent - out through the crowd, past the doors of Meduseld, and into the darkness of the night.

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Constructive criticism? Comments? Threats to make me update or lectures on how I've begun ruining the quality of this fic so far? Basically... comments?

I'll try to update, but this place is going to get hectic, since both sets of my cousins will be coming down and with Christmas and all... well, I guess you all know how it is. Heck, you all might be too busy to read and review. Anyway, I hope you enjoy these updates, and I just wish everyone a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. :)

If you can't think of present for me though, I'd love a review/feedback of any kind. :)

Thanks for staying with me this far, and I hope you'll still all be here even as the new year comes.

RK9.


	33. Night Journey

**Disclaimer:** 2008 - I didn't own. Now 2009 is coming, and I still won't own Lord of the Rings and other related things. So far, just Lady, Keldric and his family, and Ethyliss... And yes, Keldric is my character and not that contest OC from a few chapters back. I'll credit dangergurl when her character comes in, trust me. ;)

**Author's notes: **Some of you mentioned in your reviews a mysterious "woman", and I just have to clarify - that was a little girl in the previous chapter, not a woman! Just a child.... yeah...And wow, an update on the last day of 2008 - figured it had to be done. :) Happy, **fireboltcrazed**? ;)

I cannot possible respond to _all_ of your awesome reviews, nor can I mention all of you by name, but you know who you are, and I thank you all for reading and reviewing and sticking with me all this way. To think I started this fic in June - that's six months, we're on the fifth chapter of the third part, and mid-way to the end... Thanks for all your support and concrit, and for letting me know you do indeed enjoy my humble fic. I'm only sorry that recently I've been stumbling into a few writing road-blocks, and keep re-doing chapters - it does slow down the update process, doesn't it? That'll be my resolution - to try and ensure that I update regularly, and to provide quality writing that all can enjoy, and to try not to completely mangle the quality of this fic. Slight spoiler, don't read if you don't want, but ... Lady will be changing a little in chapters to come, and I'm not sure if you'll even see it or even like the differences, but we'll see. :)

**Review responses:**

**Kaisaan** - Thanks for your prayers! Yes, now I'm redoing chapter 9 - I sent a trial version to my beta and we'll see which one she prefers. I'm glad you feel the quality is still consistent and as good as ever - there have been times where I didn't feel that myself. Who knew Edoras would be so difficult for me to write? Even in the show that inspired this, the virtue of the next Stone is a difficult one to portray for it means many things... anyway. Hope you enjoy this next bit! Happy New Year!

**Shadow Traveler** - Oh... don't worry if you can't figure out the Stone. It's hard even for me to explain this next one, because it means many things and the show that inspired the Stones is rather vague on this next virtue... anyway, hope I managed to portray it right. :) Thanks for reading!

**ShadowPhoenix17 - **I might have said this already, if I have, sorry, I'll say it again: Lady hasn't made the connection between Aragorn and Estel because she left to stay at her mother's village when she was around 16, and Aragorn would be at least 19 by my calculations - not fully grown, probably still more boy than man, and not yet aware of his true name and birthright, which he didn't learn until he was 20. She has not seen him since, and yes, it has been a loooong time - doesn't feel that way, but considering that Aragorn is 87 in the movie - he would obviously be very, very different from the young boy she once knew as Estel, now being fully grown and slightly changed from all his travels and experiences. She doesn't know about Aragorn previously being Estel, and though they act alike, how would she know they are the same person? I've been dropping her hints, but never any substantial ones, so no, she won't figure it out just yet.

I do feel special! Thanks for that whole review sharing your views and thoughts. Do keep reading! :)

**Inspired Butterfly** - Funny, when I type your name with the dot in the center, it doesn't show when I save this in the document uploader... and when I post it. Oh well. Yeah, Aragorn and Lady are going to be closer... and I'm glad I didn't go with my original plan and make it Aragorn/OC. I'm rather a fan of Aragorn/Arwen myself. No, don't worry, they're just going to be friends.... :)

**KireKhane Faerring** - Thanks for the encouragement - I think I needed to hear that. I'm glad that you love the story - I've been rather doubting my writings this far, but I hope they'll stay up to par. :)

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**Chapter 5**

The night breeze caressed my fur as I emerged from the Golden Hall and came to a halt on the landing just outside. The night was dark, the light-giving moon covered by rather ominous-looking clouds, and only a scattering of faint starlight broke defiantly through the darkness to reach the earth below. Edoras itself was poorly lit, for with everyone in the hall none had bothered to light more than a few essential lamps outside. I scanned the shadows, worried and puzzled, for I could see no sign of the child whom I had been following, and only her scent lingered strongly in the air, proof that she had indeed been real, and not merely a figment of my imagination. The scent itself seemed to wrap around my flared nostrils, a strangely mystical combination of innocence and maturity, and the only way I could think of to describe it was that it was… well, _pure_: unblemished, clean and honest.

But of the child herself, I could find no physical traces, and this worried me, for this was not the time of night for any child to be wandering the streets of Edoras alone. Plunging down the steps, a nameless fear filling my heart, I forgot all else other than that I had to find her. Ignoring the shadows which seemed to leap out from every corner, I wove my way through the streets that I had explored just this morning, with Merry and Pippin by my side. They weren't here now, and I hoped that I remembered each twist and turn correctly, or I would never find my way back.

_Crunch._

I stopped at the sudden sound, turning my head with a nervous twitch of my left ear. A footstep? Or merely something conjured up by my mind, which was seeing demons and ghosts in every moving shadow along the way? Fear burned through me in a steady wave, and my legs felt as though they had temporarily been affected with paralysis, trembling as they endeavored to hold me up. I could go neither forward nor backwards, and scenting the air did me no good, for the wind was blowing in the wrong direction for scent to come my way…if anything, my enemies would scent me coming first, and that's always a dangerous situation when you're a predator.

But I found that the Stone of Courage, at least, had not forsaken me. It had been a while, but I had definitely not forgotten this steady warmth that flowed through me, strengthening my spirit and chasing away the chill that had swept down my spine. Taking a few deep breaths, I pushed on with renewed determination, for though I was still afraid, I knew that somewhere out there was a little girl, and she needed me, and I could not let my inadequacies and weaknesses stop me from helping her. She really deserved better than just me, but somehow I knew I was all she had right now, and I could not let her down.

Here the Stone of Knowledge began to whisper in my mind, and such was my bond with the Stones that I felt them begin to encourage me on, pushing aside my fear and despair. The Stone wasn't as chatty as it had been when we'd faced Saruman on his tower, but its voice was still there, a background murmur that urged me on through the darkness, until finally, I came out from one final side street, and found myself on the hillside at the edge of town. The Stone glowed, emitting a strong beam of purple light to show me a house just in front of me, the only one in this deserted area, and compared to the quaint and well-built houses that the hobbits and I had seen earlier in the city proper earlier today, this one was little more than a shack. It had four walls, a roof, and a door to keep out the wind, but the building itself seemed to sway in the breeze, slumping as though even the house itself had given up on standing tall.

There she stood, hair floating around her face as the breeze played with the shoulder-length blonde tresses, and when finally I reached her she looked up, solemn-faced and serious. Her blue gaze met mine, and once again I was caught and held, unable to look away. Light spilled from the Stone at her throat, and from the Stones around my neck, reaching out to each other as though in greeting, coming together in a multi-colored ray that swirled around us, the colors both separate and together in a dazzling rainbow-aurora effect. I gasped – for as the Stones joined together, so did we, and suddenly a blast of sadness and worry and fear came flowing into my mind in a rushing river of feeling, crashing down on me like a mighty wave that I could not hold back. The girl's feelings became mine, and beneath all her raw emotions, I heard a single, searing cry, a howl every bit as powerful and heart-rending as wolfsong, slicing through and into me in a burst of agony-fire – the agony of a child who has been carrying the worries and burdens of an adult for far too long a time.

The whole experience lasted probably no more than a few minutes, but when the light finally faded, I ached as though I'd been suffering for years. My heart beat in my chest as though trying to break free of my body, and sweat dampened my fur as I crouched there, breath coming in short, choking gasps. The girl looked at me, a single look that bared her soul, and then she turned, and entered the house. And as though connected physically to her, I felt something tugging at me, yanking me forward, and without any more hesitation I followed her in.

The putrid scent of sickness hit me almost as soon as I was inside, and it very nearly made me turn and go back out. The house had only one room, and not much of furniture or accessories… only one bed stood next to the lone window, and the little girl ran straight to it, placing her hand on the cover, directly above the worn, wrinkled hand of the woman who lay on the bed – the source of the sickness scent that I could smell so clearly. My wolf senses told me that she had a fever, for I could detect the heat that rose from her body, and a small oil lamp in a corner gave just enough light for me to see that her eyes were streaming, and a trail of mucus dripped steadily from her nose. She woke up as I entered and approached her bed, and at the sight of me she sat up and screamed; a garbled cry that turned into a coughing, phlegm-filled sound, hands instinctively bringing up her blankets as though to shield herself from attack. I froze, and someone burst in through the door behind me, bringing a familiar scent with him. It was a Rider I had seen before, the young man named Keldric, brandishing a sword with a fierce expression on his face…one that faded into wary confusion as he saw me and recognized me. Neither woman nor man gave any sign of noticing the little girl, who still knelt by the woman's bed, holding her hand with a strangely sad expression on her face. Fur standing on end, I crouched low, backing into a corner with tail down and head lowered, so they would see that I was no threat. For a long time, the three of us just stared at each other in silence, and I could see Keldric debating with himself as to whether or not to trust me. Then, straightening, he sheathed his sword, and nodded courteously to me.

"Lady," he said, tone mild but with the slightest hint of tension in his voice as he addressed me. "To what do we owe the honor of your presence in my mother's home?"

The lady on the bed started, and one long wrinkled hand reached shakily for him. "Keldric? What are you doing? Keldric, be careful!"

"It's all right, mother," he answered soothingly, turning to her with a reassuring look on his face. "She is not what she appears to be. This is Lady, and she is a friend of the King, the one I was telling you about. She saved Lord Éomer's life… She won't harm us."

I crept slowly towards the bed, ears pricked uncertainly, for the woman still stared at me with wide, frightened eyes that were bright with fever. Still, she did not protest anymore, trembling and coughing as she huddled once again under her blankets, and Keldric moved to stand by the little girl, who made way for him to tuck the woman in once more, wiping her hot face with a cool cloth.

"Sleep, mother. Jothan's mother said that rest is probably the best healer for you right now, remember?"

She batted at him with a weak, irritable hand. "I've been resting for so _long_ now, Keldric."

"Yes," he returned, voice gentle and placating. "But you need to rest more. I went herb-hunting this morning, and brought back some of the plants that Jothan described to me. He said that it helped to cure his wife's cough, and maybe it will help with yours."

The woman coughed again, a painful, hacking sound, and Keldric silently held up a bowl from a table nearby for her to spit into. My amber eyes widened as I saw the blood that was mixed with the phlegm that she coughed out. Keldric made no comment, and as his mother leaned back into the pillows and closed her eyes, he turned to me, a quizzical look on his face. Since I detected no hostility in his expression, I approached him hesitantly. I knew he was wondering why I was here, but I couldn't not explain myself to him – not just because I couldn't speak, this time, but because I wasn't sure myself. The child had led me all this way… but why? To help her mother? Surely they could just let the healers do that?

A sigh heavy and gray with weariness escaped the young man, and getting to his feet, he moved past me, to the door which he shut quietly, careful not to make a sound that might rouse his mother. Taking up a basket that stood beside the door, he held it up for me to see.

"Herbs, my Lady," he said, tilting it so that I could see inside. Wild plants of all kinds were piled inside, and I recognized several bundles of tansy, a small plant with round, button-like yellow flowers. Daisy-like feverfew and fragrant lavender there was also, and some juniper berries, along with some other herbs that I did not know, but were probably native to Rohan. Keldric met my gaze again as I looked up, and he explained: "My mother has been sick ever since she returned from the Glittering Caves, my Lady. Somehow the dampness and chill of the place combined with her stress and anxiety over me to give her this cold. We cannot afford a healer…" he lowered his voice with a glance to the bed, "…neither the ones in town nor those at the palace, and now the sickness seems to be getting worse. I do not know what to do… My friend has recommended some herbs which he says the healers used on his wife before, and now…" He shrugged helplessly. "I do not know what else to do, but I feel it cannot hurt my mother to try them… maybe I'll boil them or crush them, experiment a little to see what works."

My ears shot upright and I stared at him in shock. What? Didn't he know the danger of trying to use herbs without any medical knowledge whatsoever? My mother had been a healer, and herb lore had been drilled into me pretty much as soon as I'd been old enough to walk and talk. I might not be the healer my mother had been – and I was only familiar with certain common herbs and the traditional remedies of my village, to tell the absolute truth – but what I did know, I knew well. Once, I'd thought I'd take over her job as the healer of our village, but… well. Suffice to say I'd "changed" a little since then, and I'd never completed my training…

The little girl frowned worriedly and nodded to me, having returned to her position by the bed. Now that I was paying attention, she looked enough like Keldric for me to postulate that they were related, perhaps a sister or a cousin, or even a niece – he was too young to be her father, surely. She gestured from me to the woman on the bed, and mouthed the words: "Help her, please."

Once again, it was instinct that moved me forward, to where Keldric was looking at the basket with an expression of utter helplessness and uncertainty, and I understood why she was asking me to help. I didn't know how she knew I could, but it was pretty obvious that Keldric was in over his head here, and barely able to stay afloat – and if I did not help, he would sink and drown. Straightening, I wondered what I could do.

The Stone of Knowledge glittered in the dim light, and not for the first time, its voice whispered to me, and its wisdom filled my entire being as it began to sing:

'_Momma's got a cold, oh goodness me!__  
She's feverish and tired, with Cough and Wheeze,__  
She's lucky she has whitecough, which can be eased:  
Treat her with bed-rest, with flowers and leaves…'_

I blinked. The rhyme was one of my mother's, the first of three stanzas of a short song that told of the three types of colds: whitecough, greencough, and the dreaded blackcough. The first, whitecough, was treatable, common in young children during the winter months. It wasn't considered a threat, since it could easily be treated with lots of rest, fluids, and herbs like borage, feverfew, lavender…and yes, tansy. However, if left untreated - or if treated wrongly - it could develop into greencough, which was more dangerous, because greencough could kill. Children and elderly folk were usually victims of this disease, and I recalled one time where an epidemic had struck my home village of Tamra, and we had lost many to the sickness. And of course, deadliest of the three, was blackcough…which developed last of all, when greencough was left to fester. Once someone had blackcough, there was no hope left, for no cure had been found for it thus far, and all who had it died a painful death within hours. I peered over at the woman, but I'd suspected from the moment I'd entered the house that her ailment was greencough, for her symptoms were beyond the whitecough stage: streaming eyes and high fever, runny nose and phlegm in her cough….and scariest of all, the presence of blood in what she spit out. This was late stage greencough, and as I made that realization, automatically the names of the herbs needed - taught to me by the stern voice of my mother long ago - came to mind.

_Borage leaves and feverfew to bring down fever, juniper berries and coltsfoot for shortness of breath, lavender for chills, tansy for her cough… and most important of all, the main cure – nepeta, or as it is more commonly known: catnip or catmint. Quarantine the patient, for the sickness can spread… _

Keldric stretched out his hand towards the basket of herbs, and without thinking, I got to my paws and growled. Shaking my head fiercely, I bared my teeth at him, trying to tell him not to do it. Using herbs under medicinal ignorance was as foolhardy as playing with fire in a field of dry grass, and unless he _wanted_ to lose his mother, I couldn't let him do it. The little girl looked up, and then her gaze went past us to the outside of the house. A soft sound, like the footstep of someone who was trying to be stealthy, caught my attention. Keldric turned at the sound… and there was my chance. Lunging for the handle of the basket, I gripped it between my teeth and ran out, knocking the flimsy door open and ignoring the young man's angry, desperate cry as he realized what I'd done.

But I _had_ to do this. Purple light rose around me, and the symbol of two connected circles was bright in my mind, and somehow I knew that I was doing the right thing.

"Lady?"

I knew that voice. The whispers of the Stone of Knowledge grew more excited, and suddenly, the doggerel from my dream flickered into my mind:

'_The hands of the king are the hands of a healer…'_

That was Aragorn's voice, Aragorn's scent…Aragorn? Yes! Aragorn was a healer! Turning abruptly, I found Keldric struggling against and being held back by Legolas the Elf, and Aragorn stood by the shack, looking at me with a questioning, puzzled expression on his face.

Running back, I dropped the basket of herbs at the Ranger's feet, tail wagging, looking up at him and willing him to understand. He bent to check its contents, and Legolas released Keldric, who rushed forward as well. Glaring at me, he then seemed to come back to himself, realizing just who it was who stood here with us, and the anger left his face, to be replaced with disbelief and fear. Head bowed, he murmured, "My Lord Aragorn, and Prince Legolas! Sires, I'm sorry, but I did not see you…"

"There's no need for formalities," Aragorn waved his gaze back up, before looking around. "May I ask just what exactly is going on here?" His silver gaze turned to me, and I gulped at his austere, yet puzzled expression. Hopefully he'd understand…

"The uh, L-Lady ran off with that basket of herbs that I need for my mother," stammered Keldric, looking at me with a betrayed, half-reproachful expression, and I hung my head, suitably chastened and ashamed at the hurt accusation in his eyes. That certainty I'd had about my actions being "the right thing to do" was slowly beginning to fade. Keldric swallowed hard, looking up at my friends. "I was going to give her some tansy to cure her cough…"

Had Aragorn been a wolf, his ears would have pricked up at that, but he wasn't, so all he did was turn quickly with a sharp look. "Tansy? You know how to prepare tansy for a cough?"

"Well, uh, no," Keldric admitted, slightly taken aback by my friend's response. "I thought… I thought I'd crush it and boil it, and let Mother drink the water…"

Momentarily forgetting my shame, I wrinkled my nose. Boiling? Crushing it was bad enough, but boiling would remove any of the value of the herb that remained after Keldric had finished crushing it… Aragorn knew this too, I could see it in his eyes, and the way his face changed. I could have cheered as Aragorn said, "Tansy, when taken in large doses, or when prepared wrongly, can harm more than it helps, lad. Perhaps you'd better let me take a look at your mother…"

Keldric was many things: unskilled in healing, stubborn, proud…a loving son and loyal warrior who gave his best in all he did. But he was no fool. All the men had heard of Aragorn by now, and word had spread that he was as talented a healer as he was a warrior. After a brief, terrified moment at how close he'd come to making his mother even worse than she currently was, a hopeful light sprang into his eyes, and without protest, he slowly led us back towards the shack. Aragorn and Legolas exchanged glances with each other in silence, and then went after him. I was last of all, but the little girl met me at the doorway, and so I did not immediately follow my friends inside. We faced each other, and light danced from our Stones once more as we stood there, face to face. Playing shyly with a tangle of her blonde curls, the child gave me a grateful smile.

"Thank you," she whispered, in a voice that was as soft and light as a summer breeze. I nodded to her in response, wishing I could tell her that in the end, it wouldn't be me who helped her mother, but my friends. It must have been their footsteps I'd heard following behind me earlier in the dark, and I couldn't believe I hadn't sensed that it was them…

"My mother will be safe now, thanks to you," the child spoke up again, her young face far more serious than was right for a child her age to be.

"She – the Nature Spirit - said you'd bring help, even if you couldn't help Mother yourself. We couldn't afford a healer, and my brother… He's been trying so hard…" She bowed her head with a sigh. "I wanted him to ask for help, but he would not listen… My father was like that too, before he died, and Mother said last time that it was because we are poor – it makes them too proud to ask for charity or help, even when we need it so badly. They don't want pity, that's why… Thank you, my Lady. Now Mother will have more of a chance at life, and I can _rest_ now…" A wistful smile flickered onto her face, and as I stood there looking at her, a cool breeze blew gently around us, and to my amazement and shock, bits of her started to _disappear_, blown away like dust on the wind. Giving me a final wave, she whispered, "This night isn't over yet, Lady… Be careful…"

She was gone by the time the door opened and Aragorn came out, carefully carrying Keldric's fragile mother in his arms. Looking down at me, he smiled.

"She'll be all right now, Lady. We will bring her to the hall, and the healers will take very good care of her…"

Peace and relief settled within me, and I began padding after my friends and an anxious Keldric as we began the journey back to Meduseld.

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Happy New Year, wished a little early, to everyone. :) 2008 has ended... now we move on to 2009, and I hope we're all ready for it. The next few months will be free-ish for me, except for maybe work and the usual festivals, so I'll continue to work on Wolfsong. I can't believe I'd hope to have finished this by now... guess I forgot to take my exams into account. Oh, well. The end will come soon enough, and for now, I'm still working on chapter 9 - hey, I finished chapter 7!!!

Thanks again for staying with me until now, and please do drop a review. :)

RK9.


	34. Into The Dark

**Disclaimer: ***rethinking the need to do this for every chapter... only increases my heartbreak* Yes, they ain't mine. Aren't. Sigh.

**Author's notes:** Quick update? Yeah... um, surprise? I'm sort of celebrating that I'm kinda almost done with chapters 9 and 10... I'm happy I got them done, and am semi-satisfied with them... now to see what my beta says. Thanks to FairOphelia as usual for betaing... and yeah, the first chapter uploaded in 2009. :) Whee! Happy New Year, peeps! Thanks to all who reviewed!

**Edited to add:** I'm sorry, I always forget Ethyliss' speech needs to be bolded.... argh. Text edited and reuploaded....

**Review responses:**

**fireboltcrazed** - Crazy? Girl, you haven't seen crazy until you've met me and my friends - we're an even more dangerous combination, because we can be both crazy and LAME. WE combine the two together until our gatherings are real.... shall we say 'interesting'? LOL. But yesh, yesh, it's all ever only the 'good' kind. :) As for exams, I don't quite get that bit, because I have none until I decide which uni I'll be entering - Form 6 is over for me, so I'm free until March, unless I go to work or something. :)

Anyway - thanks for the review!

**Fire's Fury (formerly dansa)** - Hm. Does this part count? And there's a bit more about her history in a later chapter, I think.... Couldn't think how to squeeze it in. Anyway, hope this'll do... Happy reading!

**Inspired Butterfly** - Well, I wanted to reply. :P I can if I want, you know...Thanks for the review, I love your reviews too!

**memory bleeds** - Yes, she is a ghost. :) I'm glad you liked it... I was worried how people might take these new developments. I can honestly say I actually expected the story arc to take a different turn, but as sometimes happens when I'm writing it zigged when I thought it would zag....

Well, here's Chapter 6 - and let not the shortness deter you. The new chapters I'm writing are slightly longer because there's more to tell, but I usually set myself a minimum of four MWord pages per chapter, or five. Happy new year again!

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**Chapter 6**

I woke up from a deep doze in Aragorn's arms, slightly disoriented and still sleepy, to find that we were somewhere in the middle of one of Meduseld's many hallways, and Legolas was nowhere to be seen. I was confused; the last time I'd been awake, the Elf had definitely been with us, waiting with us in the little sitting area just by the healing wing, where the three of us and Keldric had been waiting for an update on Lady Selune - Keldric's mother - who was being cared for by the royal healers somewhere in the healing rooms. Master Redwulf, a huge, ginger-haired bear of a man, and the head healer of Rohan, had asked us to wait outside while he conducted his examination and treatment, and so we had complied. I did remember him confirming Aragorn's and my initial diagnosis of greencough, and then taking measures to quarantine his patient and treat her symptoms, and I remembered all of us having to drink down a vile-tasting herbal concoction that was supposed to help strengthen us and prevent us all from falling ill with the contagious sickness as well… And oh, bleah. Now that I thought about it, I felt that I could still taste it on my tongue…

But it was standard procedure when greencough was diagnosed, especially for those who had had prolonged contact with the patients. And even though I was a wolf, I knew why I had been made to take it also, for greencough wasn't a disease limited to humans alone. Livestock and other animals could also be affected and killed by it, and in some smaller animals it was even more deadly than it was in humans.

But I was digressing… I was trying to remember why Legolas wasn't here with us, and for that matter, I was also trying to figure out where 'here' was. I knew this corridor, didn't I?

"Stop fidgeting, Lady," Aragorn's voice floated down to me, and I looked up at the Ranger in surprise as his grip tightened on me. "We're only a little way away from our room."

Ah… so that was why I knew this corridor. That was one question answered…

"You fell asleep." Aragorn seemed almost psychic tonight, answering each of my questions without my having to ask him anything. "Outside the healing rooms, remember? After which, Legolas and I decided to call it a night. Master Redwulf said that Lady Selune is stable for now, and in the best care she could possibly receive, and as Keldric was with Lord Erkenbrand we knew that he wouldn't be left on his own…"

Lord Erkenbrand, I recalled, was the leader of Keldric's _éored_, and he had come as soon as one of the healer's assistants had run to tell him of his Rider's predicament. I nodded in approval – yes, Keldric shouldn't have to be alone right now, when he was so anxious about his mother, the last surviving member of his family after his father's and sister's deaths. Erkenbrand was a good man, close to Keldric and like a second father to the young Rider - he would take care of the young man, so we didn't have to worry about that.

Aragorn shifted me in his arms, and continued his explanation. "Legolas wanted to go outside for a while, for some fresh air," he said, setting me down gently on the floor as we reached the door to the room that we shared with the others in the Fellowship. "He seemed a little worried about something… But I told him I'd take you to our room first, since there was nothing more we could do for Lady Selune – she's in the hands of the healers, now."

I nodded again – that was true. A yawn took me completely by surprise, and I blushed as Aragorn chuckled knowingly. Putting a finger to his lips, he carefully pushed open the door and let me pad in ahead of him. I pounced playfully but quietly on my bedroll, circling several times in one spot and snuggling down into the soft cloth, allowing my friend to lightly drape me with a thin blanket, protection from the chilly night breeze. I snuggled backwards so that it half-covered my head as well, breathing deep the scents of the room – I could smell Merry and Pippin and Gandalf, and the sandy, solid scent of Gimli… laced with the bitterness of ale, but considering the drinking game he'd been having with Legolas earlier (and lost, apparently), I wasn't too surprised. The scents still spelled comfort to me, even interspersed as they were with the scents of strange Rohirrim – men who had just returned from Helm's Deep in time for the feast we'd just had and who were now sharing our room due to a lack of sleeping space elsewhere in the hall. I felt safe, surrounded by my friends, and I let out a whine of contentment as Aragorn gave me a final pat on the head and got to his feet.

He hesitated a little, half turning to leave, half glancing down at me, and I blinked up at him, wondering what he wanted. His mouth quirked a little, and then he sighed and murmured:

"What you did tonight, helping that Rider and his mother – it was a good thing, Lady. Though how you knew that they needed your help, or even how to find them, I'll never know - but I suppose it doesn't matter. I don't know what made Legolas and I decide to follow you after we saw you rushing from the hall as though your tail was on fire… but I'm glad we did." He rubbed my head gently. "But next time, do us a favor, and try to let us know before you go running off on your own."

I licked his hand as he straightened, and watched as he quietly left the room, each step Ranger-soft so as not to rouse the others.

Dear old Aragorn. So he and Legolas had followed me earlier because they'd been _worried_ about me? I couldn't stop myself from grinning, mouth curving like a loon. No, really. Considering that not so very long ago I had been all alone in this world, the living definition of the phrase "lone wolf", and now - _I. Had. Friends._ Friends who cared about me and whom I cared about. Friends who followed me into dark and empty streets because they _worried_ about me.

Well, _excuse me_ if that made me more than just a_ little_ happy after a lifetime of loneliness…

_Oh, Estel, if you could see me now… _Rolling over, a warm feeling beginning in my heart and spreading through my soul, I closed my eyes. No more fear of myself, or anything else tonight – I had the light of Hope in my heart, and I knew that it would protect me until morning came.

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_I guess I fell asleep. I don't remember doing it, but all of a sudden there was grass beneath my pads and the scent of the dream-forest fresh in my nostrils. I looked around, then got to my paws with a sigh – never yet had I been brought here without a reason, whether known or unknown to myself, so Ethyliss was undoubtedly nearby. The last time, she hadn't been, but I'd had a lesson to learn back then. Things were different now that I'd learned it… well, mostly. _

_**- Yes, yes, it was very well done, little one. -** _

_Though slightly teasing, it was undoubtedly my friend the Nature Spirit, and true to the fashion I'd become used to, Ethyliss emerged unannounced from behind a small cluster of trees, a colorful figure dressed now in summer flowers, with hair of fresh leaves and a daisy chain around her neck. Dipping my head to her in respect, I used my thoughts to ask her why I'd been brought here again. Did she want to tell me something?  
_

_Not that I didn't enjoy her company, of course, nor did I expect something from her every time I came here, but well…_

_The Nature Spirit's mouth curved. **- Perhaps one day, if peace is restored and the darkness beaten back, you may come and visit me just for the fun of it, little one. I have come to enjoy your company as well – I'll miss you. - **_

I'm not going anywhere yet,_ I thought in reply, and she laughed._

_**- Oh, little daughter of Huan – you have come so far and learned so much throughout your journey, and yet there is still so much more that you have to learn and understand: about the Stones, yourself, your friends, and even about this world itself. Would that we had the opportunity for a true discussion… but time is no longer the luxury it used to be. Always the Shadow moves against us, a sleepless malice that does not rest, and in fact, I feel strongly that he will strike this very night. I'm sorry… but contrary to what you are thinking, I have not brought you here to give you another Stone. It is not yet time. You will receive it when it is ready to leave its current Bearer, and when she finds the courage to break the bond that she has formed with the Stone. - **  
_

_I remembered the little ghost-girl, so young and sweet, and the green Stone that she'd kept close to her heart, hidden beneath her dress. Reading the memory in my mind, Ethyliss nodded. _

_**- Yes. The young daughter of Cerdic and Selune has long borne that Stone, and even I was surprised when she turned out to be such an ideal Bearer for it. I should not have been – the Stone itself chose her, so it must have seen in her something that I did not. - ** She looked at me, and smiled again. **- Are you curious as to what her Stone symbolizes, little one? Of course you are… but you will soon find out. Don't worry about receiving it - when the time comes, little Kelda will pass it on to you. There is no doubt in my mind – or indeed anyone else's – that you have earned it. - **_

_I had? When?_

_Wait… that whole thing with Keldric and his mother – that had been a _test_? _

_Ethyliss shrugged her leafy shoulders.** - In part, but not completely. There are other factors involved… I will not go into them now. Know only that you have learned much over the past few months, and I am proud of you. -** Suddenly straightening, my friend became serious. **- I did not bring you here to discuss Kelda or her Stone, little one, but rather to give you two warnings. The first you know already – Kelda warned you that this night was not yet over, and I am sorry to confirm that what she said was true. At Isengard, a seed was planted, and a certain temptation began in young Peregrin Took, who is even now restless and uncertain as he tries unsuccessfully to sleep. Whether or not he will be able to resist its call, I cannot say. But tonight, the seed of curiosity that he carries will either bloom, or perhaps it will find the soil that it was placed in unsuitable for taking root. Either way, he will need all the strength that he has inside of himself to fight it… and of course, the love of his friends. -**  
_

_I started. In my mind's eye, I saw the hobbit slipping off Aragorn's horse, wading through the water to pick up the palantír of Isengard, and that strange look on his face as he stared at it… Oh, Pippin!_

I have to go back!_ I thought, starting to turn away. _I must warn him, stop him, help him…

_Ethyliss calmly met my gaze, her unseeing yet all-seeing eyes filled with equal parts sadness and sternness. Slowly, she shook her head. _

_**- No, my little one. Against the dark force that is currently master of the Seeing Stone, you cannot win. You are running into battle with only half a sword on. -** She nodded pointedly to my collar, with only five out of six Stones and three sections still hanging empty. **- And despite your love for your friends and your strong desire to protect them from harm, you cannot do anything right now, since this darkness comes not just from without, but within. Pippin Took has always had an insatiable curiosity… and while there is nothing wrong with a continuous thirst for knowledge, the Enemy and his servants have worked to twist the purity of his light – remember your friend Boromir? The Ring twisted his pride into something that it should not have been… and a good Man nearly lost his soul once again to that treacherous piece of jewelry… -**  
_

_I stared at her anxiously. _But if Pippin is in trouble..._ I thought out._

**_- He isn't _yet_. He may not give in to the pulling he feels, the compulsion that is demanding that he take the Seeing Stone from Gandalf and look into its depths. If he does, he will be revealed to the Enemy… but even so, I cannot say that it will be completely a bad thing if he is. -_**

_Huh? Confused, I looked at her, one eyebrow hiking upwards. _

_Was Pippin in danger or wasn't he?_

_She smiled grimly. **- Never mind that. Whatever happens, Gandalf and your other friends are more than capable to handle it. You are not the only one who wants to protect Pippin from the Shadow. Two dangers, I said – and this second danger is more of a concern to me than your hobbit friend at the moment. - **She paused to take a breath, and my eyes widened as I noticed actual fear in her eyes. _

What is it?_ I asked her mentally. I was still worried about Pippin, despite what she'd said, but now I realized that something must really be wrong if the Nature Spirit was actually frightened of something…  
_

_She paused, as if to gather her thoughts, or perhaps strengthen her resolve, but then started speaking again. _

_**- I do not know how, but the Enemy has found out about you, and that the Stones, the ancient weapons of the Light, are being gathered again, this time by a Stonebearer with the potential to actually challenge him – no, hear me out, -** she cut me off as I started to protest. - **The Enemy fears you and hates you in equal measure, little one, almost as much as he hates and fears the heir of Elendil who has now stepped forth. -** _

_I'd been hearing a lot about this Elendil person, really, and his heir. I frowned. From various clues and conversations, I'd even picked up on the fact that _Aragorn_ was supposed to be the heir in question. Why did Sauron hate Elendil so much, anyway? I knew from books I'd read that Elendil was some sort of King… _

_**- Yes, the father of Anárion and Isildur, - **agreed Ethyliss, slightly testy that I'd interrupted her, but then her expression sobered as she remembered, and I wondered exactly how well she'd known the long-dead Man. _

**_- Elendil the Tall was a great King of Men, little one. His son Isildur was, along with his brother, the one who established the great city of Gondor… and a great leader of Men during his time as well, though most now remember Isildur as the last Man who fell to the power of the Ring before it betrayed him and was lost to the Sight and memories of Men, before it reached the hands of the creature Gollum… -_**

Eyes, eyes in the darkness… _Even in memory, the thought of the creature that had followed us through Moria and beyond made me shudder. _

**_- Elendil died with Gil-galad, facing Sauron in battle. Now, Sauron fears Aragorn, the heir of Elendil's bloodline, the last of the line of the kings of old. After the defeat at Helm's Deep, the Enemy has seen that Men are not as weak as he supposed. There is courage still, strength enough perhaps to challenge him. And the Ranger himself – he has the potential to rise above the might of all his fathers who came before him, and so he is a threat, one that Sauron will not suffer. And besides him, the only other thing that Sauron considers a threat to the return of his power… well, that would be _you_, little one. -_**

_Clouded eyes gazed earnestly at me, and all of a sudden, I felt like backing away with tail between my legs. The Nature Spirit moved forward, reaching to stroke my bristling fur in a soothing gesture. _

_**- It doesn't seem, real, I know, -** she said softly.** - But it's true. Sauron knows that besides Aragorn, you are the greatest threat to the Dark, simply because you are of the Light. We of the Light, we have done nothing to initiate this war, done nothing to incite such anger and hatred – but the fact remains that we still have to fight against the rising darkness. Not from malice, not from hatred…but from the very nature of things. -**  
_

_**- Now, Sauron has chosen to fight back in his own way. In his anger and fear, he has summoned forth a new servant, one who bears the fierce and terrible weapons of the Dark. -**  
_

_Weapons? Raising my head, a question in my eyes, I wondered… Ethyliss nodded, answering the question I dared not even put into thought. _

_**- Yes, as we have our Stones, so the servant of the Dark has her weapons as well. I do not know everything about them, there is a limit to how far even my eyes can see, but I will keep trying. I do know that Sauron has sent her to hunt you down and destroy you… and unlike the wolf, she is unbound, free and eager to do her master's bidding. I worry… but at the same time, I have faith. I believe in you, little one. As long as you are careful, and you remember everything I have taught you so far… I do not think that this champion of the Dark can hurt you. But it wouldn't hurt you to be careful, and to remain vigilant no matter what… -**  
_

_The portal roared open above us, signaling the end of my time here, and I looked up in alarm._ Wait, wait…

_**- You are wanted back in Meduseld, little one. I will send you back. And remember – be careful…- **  
_

_And then I was taken up into the gentle tornado, and before I knew it, I was awake once more._

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A whiff of familiar friend-scent, a gentle hand that shook my shoulders, and the residue of pain and fear… these were the sensations that greeted me as I slowly returned to the real world, my eyes reluctantly sliding open to look blearily up at Legolas, the one trying to rouse me from sleep. The Elf looked concerned, but relief lit his gaze as he saw that I was awake.

"I've been trying to wake you for the past few minutes, Lady," he explained. "You did not respond to my calls, and I thought that something was wrong…"

I licked his hand, giving him a reassuring wolf smile. Still a little disoriented from sleep and strangely upset after the dream-conversation I'd had with Ethyliss, I remembered…

Where was Pippin?

The room – something smelled wrong, and I became rather worried myself when I saw that everyone else was awake and muttering among themselves, the Rohirrim all sitting up on their sleeping rolls and my friends scattered throughout the room, with Gimli looking particularly grumpy in his corner, wincing at bright lights and noises and generally looking as though he wanted to kill someone – most likely whoever had been stupid enough to disturb his sleep. Merry and Pippin's bedrolls were empty, covers thrown around anyhow as though they'd left them in a hurry. Looking up at Legolas, I whined a question. It was clear that something had happened here, but what?

The Elf ran a hand over my fur and nodded to where Gandalf was near the center of the room, holding Pippin's head in his hands. The hobbit was flat on his back on the floor, and I stiffened and made to get to my paws when I realized that he was trembling finely, shivering as though he'd just had a great shock. Merry was nearby, watching his cousin and the Wizard with anxiety on his face, and Aragorn was just moving closer to check on the younger hobbit. Pippin didn't seem hurt, but…

"He took the palantír from Gandalf, Lady, and looked into its depths," Legolas explained quietly, holding me down as he continued to stroke the fur on my back in soothing, calming motions. "In doing so, he revealed himself to the Enemy, from what I can understand, and Gandalf has just ascertained that so far he has done no harm to Frodo's Quest. The Enemy – I will not speak his name, so soon after the terror - was not kind to him, but undoubtedly he will recover quickly, blessed as he is with the amazing recuperative abilities of all hobbits. Gandalf is certain that the horror will fade quickly…"

"Too quickly, perhaps," Gandalf murmured, glancing towards us as he rose with Pippin and bore him back to his roll. The hobbit sighed, closing his eyes and turning away as though ashamed, but Merry was right there beside him within seconds. The Wizard, however, turned to me.

"Legolas was concerned when the whole room was roused by Pippin's cries and you were not, and so tried to wake you and failed… until you awakened on your own," he noted, looking strangely at me. "But I see – you had matters of your own to deal with, didn't you? Perhaps taking counsel with an old friend of the Lady Galadriel's?"

I met the wise old gaze in surprise. He knew about Ethyliss? Gandalf smiled tiredly, saying no more but bidding me goodnight with a final pat on the head before returning to his bed. I rested my head on my paws. My brain was now too active to return to sleep, and so I lay still, watching the room in silence. Legolas - and after a while, Aragorn too - settled down on either side of me, listening and watching as slowly the others in the room returned to their interrupted slumber, until the silver dawn rose outside over Edoras.

Fur prickling, I shivered slightly, for once finding no comfort even with the arrival of the light.

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RK9.


	35. Heartbreak and Loss: The Seventh Stone

**Disclaimer:** Not mine. You'll all be the first to know if the LOTR rights change hands. Honest - you'll open Yahoo!, and poof, it'll be there as the main article of the day. :P

**Author's notes: **Sorry sorry - I've been busy working! Still am... working for my aunt, putting up decor and taking stockcheck of Christmas decor in a local hotel. I'm not at home, but thankfully my aunt has wireless... but I haven't had time to write or do more than check email every day..... sorry! Anyway, here's chapter 7, which took ages to get out... but FairOphelia said it was nice, so... haha, I don't know, I'll let you all judge! Do drop a review - it'll make my day after a hard day of work! Seriously, I work all afternoon and evening, have a short break for dinner, then work again until 12am.... I'm bushed! Have pity - let me know what you think!

**Review responses:**

**Black Wolf-Dog** - Thanks! I"m glad you liked it... but uh, ask me no questions and I'll tell you no spoilers! Haha.... Lady will face her rival when the time is right!

**Rushingriver - **Hehe... yeah... but I figure it isn't unrealistic for her to be so completely clueless about Aragorn and Estel even now - she's only half-human, eh? ;)

**ShadowTraveler** - I don't know if I PMed you about it, but I think you're the first and only person to actually come close to guessing what the Stone is. :) Well done! Cyber-cookies for you! Seriously, everyone else seems confused about it, but well done - empathy IS a part of what her newest Stone is. Read on and see! ;)

**SaphirePhoenix** - Hey, don't diss Pokemon songs! Pokemon is still a cool show that I love and enjoy even at 19+ years of age, and even if the show itself gets a bit repetitive and childish at times, there are still enough awesome moments in it for me to still love it - and the songs are all first rate! If you haven't already, go check them out! The Pokemon movie 2000 soundtrack is especially cool, and the instrumental tracks for the first movie soundtrack can bring tears to the eyes. :)

I hope you have caught up on your sleep... and thanks, I'm glad you like the story! :)

**Kaisaan** - No, Lady's rival (or antithesis as people are calling her) is not dangergurl's character. Uh, people do keep asking... but don't worry, I'll tell you when there's even a preview of a preview of dangergurl's character, okay? LOL...

(spoiler warning)She'll be in a later chapter, most likely after the Pelennor Fields. I can't fit her in sooner, and don't have time to write so I can't be more exact... you know me.  
(end spoiler)

This whole thing is more like a PWP... I go with the flow and haven't really planned it out... it's how I do all my stories, but surprisingly, some parts really fit with others as though I really did write it all out and plan it! Only the first... I think 9 chapters were in my notebooks and pretty much unchanged, which is why Wolfheart started out pretty badly and only became nicer to read when they reached Lothlorien.... Anyway, do keep reading and stay in touch! :)

**Inspired Butterfly - **Hm, care to ask some of the questions you have? I might be able to answer them, if not through PM then in a later chapter?

New Year - was fun, thanks. Did what we did every year: went to Watch Night service in church, then had a photo session in church (what we call cam-whoring... which means we go crazy and take all kinds of pictures and everything. :) Hey, I didn't come up with the word!). All in all, a good start to a new year with friends.

**KireKhana Faerring - **Wow! Do you really like Keldric? Well, I don't know about him... I did think of putting him in a lot more... maybe in a later chapter? Haha, we shall see I guess... I'll definitely think more about that since you say you'd like to see a bit more of him... thanks! I'm happy that he's loved by SOMEONE besides me.... :) And for the anti-Lady idea, I figured that she needed a rival. It's what happens in life, not everyone will love you or be your friend - and we know I like my fics to be as realistic as possible! So I decided she needed a rival... thus the Dark Star was born, and we shall see her later.

**sparkalie** - Peace, grasshopper, all will be explained in a later chapter. For now, we shall continue with the fic, yes? :) And yes, I suppose the champion of the dark will be scary... but it won't be like 'i-gotta-hang-on-to-someone's-hand-while-i-read' scary, so no worries! ;) Happy New Year to you too, ages late... but what does Happy Three Kings mean? :?

Well, thanks for all the reviews and I hope everyone's still here with me! Traffic on this seems to have slowed... oh dear. I only hope this chapter continues to live up to expectation... though yes, it took ages to work through due to writer's block. I don't think it's anything special - but hope you all like it anyway!

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**Chapter 7**

Morning found us gathered in the main hall with Théoden-King, though from my sleepless night I found that I was tired and shaky on my paws. I stayed close to Aragorn, feeling strangely drained, and pulling in deep breaths that somehow didn't seem able to fill my lungs with enough air. Too tired to care, I stretched out by the fire and tried hard not to doze off as my friends began discussing the events of the night, and what was to come. This was important, I reminded myself, and even if I couldn't contribute anything I should probably listen…

Gandalf was speaking; having started this meeting. Facing the King, he explained first about how Pippin had taken the palantír and gazed into its depths, and how he had seen in the Stone a glimpse of the Enemy's plan – so no harm was done in the end to Frodo and his Quest... in fact, it seemed we had actually gained from Pippin's little mishap, though it hadn't seemed like such a blessing at the time…

Théoden's face remained stern and unreadable, and when I looked to where Pippin was slumped in a chair beside his loyal cousin, I saw the hobbit look shamefacedly away and knew he felt sorry for what he had done. Poor Pippin – if nothing else, maybe this would help him to mature a little and think his actions through before doing something in the future. The youngest of the hobbits, he had quite some growing left to do, actually…

A sharp pain ripped through my chest and I gasped, opening my mouth and panting slightly. The fire's glow seemed to dim as I turned and shifted closer to it, shivering.

It was freezing in here, wasn't it? Funny how no one else seemed to notice…

A cloak draped itself over my back, and I looked gratefully up at Legolas, who had dropped it there. I was still cold, but oh well, it was the thought that counted. The Elf looked slightly concerned as he met my gaze, but both of us were distracted as Gandalf continued speaking.

"Sauron moves to strike the city of Minas Tirith. His defeat at Helm's Deep showed our enemy one thing. He knows the heir of Elendil has come forth. Men are not as weak as he supposed."

I glanced up. The words sounded familiar… hadn't Ethyliss used this very same description in the dreamscape when telling me of Aragorn and his bloodline? Gandalf met my gaze and went on, unconsciously repeating more of what the Nature Spirit had said,

"There is courage still, strength enough, perhaps to challenge him. Sauron fears this. He will not risk the peoples of Middle-earth uniting under one banner. He will raze Minas Tirith to the ground before he sees a king return to the throne of Men. If the beacons of Gondor are lit, Rohan _must_ be ready for war." The Wizard looked to Théoden, and an eyebrow arched in surprise as the King looked steadily back at him, and questioned,

"Tell me. Why should we ride to the aid of those who did not come to ours? What do we owe Gondor?"

The aura of the room around me seemed to darken, but to my surprise the Stones did not glow. Even the wolf sensed it, the sudden tension that oozed steadily from the Rohan King, further marred by a slight tang of bitterness, because the Wizard seemed to expect him and his people to stand by, ready to help those who had not helped them when they'd been in need. I paused, watching for any threatening follow-up movements, but thankfully the danger seemed to pass, the darkness in the room lifting as the King looked away and Aragorn spoke out suddenly.

"_I_ will go," the Ranger declared, his tone and expression more intense than even I had seen in him before. But before he could continue, the Wizard was already shaking his head.

"No," he negated.

"They must be warned!" my friend exclaimed, and Gandalf nodded.

"They will be," he soothed. Striding over to the Man with smooth, unhurried steps, the Wizard lowered his voice and went on, "You must come to Minas Tirith by another road. Follow the river. Look to the black ships."

I frowned at that, not really understanding the cryptic message, but at any rate it seemed to soothe Aragorn and I felt the Ranger relax slightly as Gandalf turned back to the room and raised his voice to normal volume once again.

"Understand this," Gandalf said, "Things are now in motion that cannot be undone. I ride for Minas Tirith." He paused, and slanted his keen gray gaze to Pippin, who shrank away with wide eyes. "And I won't be going alone." Nodding thoughtfully, he announced to the room: "Peregrin, you will be coming with me."

If I'd had the energy, I would have leapt to my paws and protested, but I was strangely apathetic about the prospect of losing my youngest friend. I lowered my head and sighed, but the cold had grown worse, and the ache inside of me had turned into an agonizing, dull throbbing that I could not bear. Pippin looked about as stunned as I felt, though he said nothing, but the others all seemed to understand… and even if they didn't, they trusted Gandalf's judgment. If the Wizard said that Pippin was better off with him, then surely it was so. I watched as Gandalf wrapped up his discussion with the King and had a few words with Aragorn, and I caught the whispers that told the Ranger that he was in charge in the Wizard's absence, and that he was to watch and wait for his signal, which would come when the time was right. Merry would remain here with us, as would I this time – a decision that normally would have filled me with great relief at the thought that I need not leave my friends once again. But this time, I was more concerned about the fact that I was near enough to the fire to have my fur singed and blood boiled, and yet I felt frozen right down to the very marrow. Legolas' cloak was an incredible weight on my fur, but somehow I got unsteadily to my paws and staggered after my friends as Gandalf prepared himself to leave. No one noticed when I fell behind, unable to keep up with their long, hurried strides, or indeed even with Merry and Pippin's shorter-stepped trot. It was more than just exhaustion now – every step was agony, and it was all I could do to keep remembering to put one paw in front of the other.

I think it was right about then that I started to figure out that something was wrong. My chest continued to ache, I felt as though I'd been buried in ice, and I barely had the strength to move. Was I ill? Greencough? But no, these weren't symptoms of any type of sickness I'd ever seen or heard of. Struggling with every dragging step, I was reduced to practically crawling over the floor to the landing, where I allowed myself to collapse, telling myself that maybe I just needed to catch my breath for a few minutes and then I would feel better.

The trouble was, by now I couldn't even breathe. Or rather, I could, but the air I drew in never seemed nearly enough, and soon I was choking and wheezing. Rolling on the floor, the cloak unintentionally providing some cushioning against the stone, I coughed out blood, sucking in a burning rush of air…

I don't think I would have made it if the guards at the door hadn't come to my aid. One fell to the ground beside me and called for the healers, and another raced a little way down the steps to catch up to Legolas and Gimli. The Elf at least had sensed that something was wrong, his Elven hearing managing to catch the sounds of my distress and pain, and now he came running swiftly back.

Knowing that my friends would take care of me, I ignored the quiet pleading of the Rohirrim guard for me to stay awake, and closed my eyes.

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_I wandered in dark dreams, with no sense of purpose of direction of any kind, knowing only that I searched for a light that I felt would never shine, or at least, not in time. The fatigue and listlessness dogged me even here, and the never-ending darkness itself was suffocating. I was tempted to just sit down and stop searching, but something else told me that if I did, I would never get up again, and while I wasn't too sure how I felt about that, I did know that for now, I still had the will to keep looking for what I sought, and so giving up was out of the question. _

_And then it came. A sigh escaped, a relieved sound that echoed on the wind. Yellow and bright, it represented what I had lost - and so I rushed towards it and leapt right in with a desperate cry of need and pain… _

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I awakened in Aragorn's arms, held securely against his bare chest, draped across his lap. My friend was singing softly to me in what sounded like Elvish, and I soaked in every word like a thirsty man would gulp down water. It didn't matter that his voice was rougher and deeper in song than I was used to hearing, and it didn't matter that I couldn't understand a word that he was singing. Finally, my frozen body had found something that gave me some small semblance of warmth, and so I glommed onto the source of it, burrowing deeper and closer and harder into my friend's embrace, breathing his scent in deeply and letting him be balm to my pain. Aragorn grunted a little as I bumped against his body, but he continued his song, his expression becoming more tender and gentle as he worked to soothe me and keep me calm.

As I slowly grew used to my surroundings, I became aware of Legolas, Gimli, Merry and Éowyn all standing around us, and Aragorn and I were both on a soft white bed in the middle of one of the healing rooms, a place in Edoras I had not exactly been eager to visit again so soon. They smiled concernedly at me as I met each of their gazes, and then Legolas moved a little closer to rub behind my ears as he explained what had happened to me.

"You collapsed outside the entrance to the hall," he reminded me, and I nodded seriously back. Yes, I remembered that. Then what had happened?

"We wanted to bring you to the healers," Éowyn took up the explanation. "I came running as soon as I heard the guards calling for help, but by then you were unconscious – and we could not touch you, Lady. Every time we tried, you cried out as if in pain, and you…" she paused, swallowed slightly, and continued, "It was as if your color faded a little wherever we tried to touch you, like we were somehow draining the very spirit from your body as we tried to help…. It wasn't until a little later when Lord Aragorn returned from seeing Gandalf and Pippin off that we finally found someone who was able to carry you without hurting you further, and so we brought you here. But the healers still cannot tell us what is wrong with you, and that was when Aragorn decided that the problem was likely nothing to do with any illness known to Man, Elf, Dwarf or Hobbit – and that probably your predicament came instead from… _those._" She gestured towards my collar, and I realized that she was referring to the Stones.

It actually made sense. Reaching out with a shaky paw towards the cold Stone of Courage, I saw that although it glowed in response, its reaction was very slight, and the orange light was dim and muted when it should have been bold and bright. It was the same for the Stones of Friendship and Kindness, and for Knowledge and Hope as well – in fact, the Stone of Hope stayed cool and did not glow at all; not even a glimmer was reflected in the small yellow orb. My heart sank as I saw it – what had happened to them, and why was this happening to me? Had I done something wrong?

I huddled closer to Aragorn, whose quiet song had ended by now, and he in turn held me close and gently stroked my back and head. Maintaining these actions, he looked up and began to speak. "I rather wish Gandalf had not left," he sighed wearily to the room. "This is beyond even my skills as a healer; I do not know how to help her. It was instinct alone that told me that though you all could not touch her, I would be able to without further harming her, and it was instinct again that told me that I would be able to call her back before we lost her completely. Now… I do not know what to do. Still, Gandalf was in a hurry to be on the road. He seemed to think it imperative that he reached Gondor to help, and as it is, it is a three-day ride as the Nazgul flies."

"Maybe we could ride after him and call him back?" Merry asked uncertainly, but here I shook my head. No! Bad enough that I was causing all this trouble, but now I couldn't let them distract Gandalf from his mission to Gondor when he was sorely needed there. No. I'd be fine. Stones or otherwise, whatever this problem was, I'd rather solve it without having to fetch the Wizard back again. I didn't want to give him yet another burden to bear without necessity… he already carried enough as it was.

My friends all turned puzzled glances in my direction, but even as I pondered how to explain myself to them, a deep pain hit me right in the gut and I gasped because it hurt. Aragorn's grip tightened on me, sending bolts of pure love and warmth through me, but even that didn't help, and he was hard pressed to keep holding onto me when I began writhing in pain… My friends all surged forward as one united group, and touched by their concern and anxiety, I felt something impossible happen.

A single tear welled up and fell from my right eye, trickling wetly down my furry muzzle and onto my leather collar of Stones…

And a flash of brilliant green exploded throughout the entire room in an exceedingly bright nimbus that blinded us all for a long moment before suddenly disappearing and revealing – Kelda.

I gaped at her, then glanced quickly and furtively around at my friends and was relieved to see that they were all staring at her too. It meant that they saw her, then, that she was currently visible to them all. I'd thought she'd gone to her final rest, but if she was here…

"Hi, everyone," the little ghost-child said shyly, one hand going up to play uncertainly with one of her long blonde curls. "My name's Kelda, and I'm here to help Lady."

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Kelda's reception was pretty much a mixture of disbelief, incredulity, and open-mouthed shock, but there was no fear in either me or my friends at all, despite the fact that we were all being introduced to one of the "formerly alive". Éowyn recognized her, of course, for she had known the little girl when she'd been alive, but before she could do more than exclaim aloud, Kelda took charge of the situation with a calm maturity that I hadn't known one so young could possess. It was like her entire demeanor changed from that of an innocent, helpless, young child to that of a world-wise adult stuck in a child's body, far more grown-up than she'd been even the last time I'd seen her, just last night. Somehow, she pulled it off well, and with a few words and gestures she had everyone gathered around Aragorn and I on the bed once again.

"Yes, I'm a ghost," she stated, matter-of-factly. "I know I haven't been alive since my brother was a child, Lady Éowyn, but the fact is that my spirit still remained here in Middle-Earth even after my body was laid to rest, both because I felt that I needed to watch over my family, and because I was a Stonebearer. Like Lady. As the protector of the seventh Stone, I could not rest until I had passed it on – something I did not know until they sent me back. As I said, my name is Kelda, sister to Keldric son of Cerdic, and I am here now because Lady is in serious trouble."

"Well, tell us something we don't know," Gimli rumbled with his rolling Dwarven accent, slightly testy and looking as though he still wasn't completely convinced that Kelda could be trusted. The Dwarf made that rather obvious, too, from the way he was holding his axe up in a ready-to-attack position and standing pointedly between me and the little girl's spirit. Young as she was, Kelda seemed to understand, and she grinned as she addressed him with a respectful little nod of her head.

"Lord Gimli, I can assure you that I truly mean none of you any harm. Lady truly is in danger, as you can see. In fact," she sobered up again, "To put it simply, she is dying. She has -"

There was a silent eruption in the room as all my friends jerked their heads around to look at her. She sighed, and looked at me, but I wasn't sure how to respond myself. Maybe because not too long ago, I myself had begun to suspect that very same thing… somewhere between my collapsing before the doors to the hall and waking up in Aragorn's arms, I'd just _known_. I guess all I had been waiting for was for someone to voice it aloud…

With a wave of her hand, Kelda once again got all my friends to quieten and listen to her. "She is _dying_," she repeated firmly, raising her voice a little so that the tumbling outbursts of my friends were cut off mid-flow. "I'm sure that you all know very well that there is no cure for death, no miracle remedy that can prevent the leeching of a person's life force from their bodies when the time comes. Well, Lady has lost something, something that she needs to find again. And because of that, her life force is slowly draining out of her like water through a sieve. And while I cannot replace what she has lost – because she must find it for herself – I can help by giving her something else that might help her instead…"

And suddenly, I knew what was coming. Sitting up straight, I looked straight at her with an unwavering gaze, leaning slightly forward – though I dared not leave the safety of Aragorn's arms. It was as though putting even a little distance between the Ranger and myself would cause me to lose the warmth I had found, and the pain would start all over again. I knew, I _knew,_ that this arrangement couldn't last forever – eventually he would have to separate from me, he would have to go to places where I couldn't follow – but for now, I needed him, and he did not deny me. Both a gentleman and a friend, he took care of me even now, as Kelda ghost-walked over to me and silently removed the green Stone from around her neck, gravely setting it in its place on my collar. There wasn't much drama, or aplomb, or fanfare – but now I had the seventh Stone.

And how it blazed! Green as a field of new grass in spring, and with a pure and sweet and refreshing scent that I recognized from the first time I'd scented it, I almost literally felt new life flowing into me as I felt the Stone begin to work its magic on my soul. Passed from one Bearer to another, it nonetheless didn't miss a beat, glowing unashamedly and willingly sharing its strength with me without even a need for pause. Touching a paw to it, I saw the glistening green outline of a single shining teardrop turning slowly in my mind, and a sound of pure happiness bubbled up from my throat, as the Stone gifted me with renewed energy and rejuvenated my spirit. Deep inside of me, I felt the pain recede, and that dreadful pulling on my soul seemed to stop, as though a hole had been plugged somewhere within…. or as though everything that had been flowing out was now being yanked back in from the opposite direction. Finally able to pull away from Aragorn, I managed a weak, yet still joy-filled smile.

I could _feel_ again. And better yet, I could see myself, clear as day, deep within my suffering soul – and I knew what it was that I had lost somewhere along the way. Somewhere between Ethyliss' warnings to me in the dreamscape and after Pippin's encounter with the Seeing Stone, I had lost sight of the light inside, which was, simply: hope. That was what I'd lost - I'd lost _hope_. I'd let my fears and worries take away my natural optimism and dim the light that was usually so strong within me, and as a result, I'd lost my direction and purpose and reason for going on… along with a bunch of other important things as well.

Kelda gave me a knowing smile as I turned to her with gratefulness in my eyes and a new light in my gaze. Still, that wisdom and maturity that guided her as surely as my instincts guided me led her to nod formally to me, saying: "That is one of the rarer gifts of Sincerity, my Lady Wolf, the gift of allowing you to see yourself as you truly are, the good and bad, thus giving you the ability to right all your wrongs and correct what needs to be corrected. You know now that you lost your hope, and for some reason only Aragorn could give it back to you…"

"She lost hope?" Éowyn looked surprised. "But… is that all? I mean, do people die from losing their hope?"

"Begging your pardon, but you're not thinking, my Lady Éowyn," Kelda answered her calmly, turning to the lady of Rohan. "For some of us, hope is all that keeps us going when there are no other reasons for living in our lives. For Lady, as a Stonebearer, it becomes even more important, because for her, hope _is_ life. Don't you know the saying: 'A man can live for a few days without food, a few hours without water – but a man cannot live for even a moment without hope?' Connected to the Stones as she is, the instant Lady lost her hope, she began to lose her life-force… and that was why she was in such pain. Dying that way hurts. And if Lord Aragorn had not come to her in time, you would all have lost her completely."

Aragorn's hands tightened in my fur.

"But we didn't," Legolas pointed out quietly, and the fierce grip on my pelt loosened, but only slightly. The Elf was looking at me with a strangely intense expression on his face, as were they all… and I was just starting to feel rather uncomfortable at their scrutiny when Kelda smiled and agreed.

"No, you didn't," she echoed the Elf's words. "Thank the Valar you didn't. And now, I must take my leave. My work here is done; no further ties connect me to this world. I can rest now in peace. Lady, to you I say only: good luck. There are hard times ahead, but I believe you have the strength to overcome whatever Sauron or the world throws at you. You may not have found all of your light again, but you will, and until you do… take care. The Stone of Sincerity will shine for you now, and the light of honesty, purity and empathy will remain with you for as long as it does. Fare well."

And in a tiny nimbus of shimmering rainbow colors, Kelda daughter of Cerdic promptly disappeared, leaving me with my overjoyed and relieved friends, who, regardless of whether they believed in or understood all that had happened here today, were simply glad that I was no longer dying, but still alive. The light of Friendship slowly began growing again, building up from its Stone, and it joined with the green light of Sincerity and the pale glow of my newly restored Hope to surround me and my friends in the unity that came from Friendship and love. And like happy, playful river otters, we fell together and hugged each other, while a smiling Éowyn watched from the bedside.

And yet somehow, in my relief and joy, all I could think of was… that Aragorn really, really needed to wear his shirt again, because he looked better with than without it…

Yep. Hope restored, my special brand of humor back in place - I was _back_.

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_Sincerity is the key which will open the door through which you will see your separate parts, and you will see something quite new. You must go on trying to be sincere. Each day you put on a mask, and you must take it off little by little. _

- G.I. Gurdjieff, Views From the Real World

"_Hope is the biggest lie there is, and it is the best. We have to keep going as if it all mattered, or else we wouldn't keep going at all."_

- Allison "Allie" Keys, Taken (portrayed by Dakota Fanning)

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Yes, two quotes for this chappie. I haven't been adding them recently, now I have an overabundance of quotes! LOL... do drop a review! Concrit, liked it, hated it... tell me! I'm so tired from work and now I'm homesick but can't go home till Tuesday morning... ahhh! Please review and feed the author! Even if it's just concrit - she wants feedback, positive, negative and otherwise!

Happy Chinese New Year, which is just around the corner, to all who celebrate it!

RK9.

Ps - expect slow updates due to a busy work schedule! Sorry...


	36. Choices and Courage

**Disclaimer:** No, Lord of the Rings isn't mine. Sigh. Don't rub it in, ne?

**Author's notes:** So - here's Chapter 8! Sorry that I haven't been writing - what with work and Chinese New Year, I haven't had the time, and when I do, I'm usually tired enough that even thinking of opening MWord seems about as difficult as climbing Mt Everest... But yeah, I'm getting off my butt now to update, eh? I'm still going to be busy, but I'll work on chapter 11 when I have time.... chapter 9 and 10 are still unbetaed anyway.

Now, about chapter 7. Many of you commented that it seemed rather sudden, how Lady had lost her hope. The thing is, I was leading up to it from the end of chapter 6 already... it was obvious that Lady wasn't in the best of moods, and now you know why. ;) I know there are many other things coming that will not make sense if read on their own - but they will be explained in future chapters, you see. Really. But feel free to ask me questions and give feedback - I'm always happy to explain! :) At least I'll know if you have questions, that you're interested and have read my humble little fic, right?

So - more slow-moving, deep thoughts kind of stuff - bear with me! I'm working on getting some action ASAP!

Thanks to all who have read this far and are still here. I know I say this with each update, but I really am grateful. You don't know - I've been so worried that these new chapters would be terrible, that they'd drive away all you wonderful readers because I don't feel their quality is as good as the ones previously posted. I'd be glad if they were - but don't feel they are. Anyway, I hope this one continues to meet my readers' standards... please let me know if it doesn't! If you don't tell me I won't know there's anything wrong... or if I'm doing something right!

K - enjoy!

RK9.

**Review responses:**

**JenCarpeDiem** - I'm glad you liked the quotes! I periodically browse the web, looking for quotes - I collect them, you see. :) I'm always super-excited when I find one that I feel can match this story - I put it in straightaway if I can!

Alas, sleep isn't something I had much of while working for my aunt... but yeah, I eventually got used to it. And technically, I had the Chinese New Year holidays to catch up! :)Thanks for your review - I thought it was great! Don't worry - reviews don't have to be full of flowery praises and whatnot - just say what you thought of the fic, give concrit where needed, and maybe offer advice for improvement or just say you think the writer's doing fine, and should continue to do so! Basically - if you don't need to give concrit, then encourage as much as you can! We writer's need it!

**Inspired Butterfly** - Ooh, wow. I suspect you kept the review window open as you read - lol! Yes, I'm home now... might be going to work again, depending on whether my mum needs my help at home or not. Anyway...with Chinese New Year over, holidays end too... so back to the ol' grindstone. Thanks for the review!

**BadWolf-Phoenix** - LOL, well, haven't had any reviews challenging that statement so far! :) Hope I won't either... thanks for reviewing!

**memory bleeds** - Glad you noticed the double meaning! Haha - you might be the first to guess what will come next... ;)

**Temeti** - Leading up to when they find out they knew each other from before... hm. Sort of. ;) You're good at figuring what happens next, aren't you? I wonder if I'm making this all too cliched?

**Empress Hellfire** - Thanks for the review, and welcome to the Saga of the Wolf - and wow, that seems to be the most popular question everyone has. Tell you what - check out my profile poll, if you haven't already, and you'll find out if she turns back at the end of this fic, okay? ;) LOL - it's not set in stone, I could say now that she'll change back but I might change my mind later... but currently, I'm leaning towards changing her back. You'll see. :) Please keep reading! And thanks again!

Thanks also to** Rushingriver**, **Black Wolf-Dog**, **fireboltcrazed**, **THE DEADLY ANGEL**, **Sincere **, **CRAZY little Dragon**, **Starset**,** sandcat**, **Yellow-Fluffy-Monster**, **Kaisaan**, **Ryle Culler**, **J. C. le Mysterieuse**, and **Dunedain Ranger of the North** for their reviews too!

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**Chapter 8**

Over the next few days, I began working to recover my strength. Though Kelda's Stone of Sincerity had helped me to see my true problem and thus helped me regain the hope I had lost, it could not tell me how I had lost hope in the first place, nor could it replace my sapped physical strength, and so the healers prescribed rest, and plenty of it. Not yet strong enough to argue with them over that decision, I simply allowed them to do as they wished with me, figuring that resting might not actually be such a bad idea. The road ahead was apparently going to be a bumpy one, and I'd need my strength to get over the bumps that got in my way.

Through mutual agreement, the six of us who had been in the room with Kelda made a decision to keep to ourselves the events that had transpired there, partly because no one else truly needed to know, but mostly because no one would believe us anyway. All the Rohan healers knew was that I had somehow made a miraculous recovery, but was still physically weakened, and so they set about trying to help me overcome this problem with great enthusiasm and eagerness. I suspect they were just happy to actually find me down with a problem that they could actually cure, and so I received two full-body massages a day, brews of energy-replenishing herbal mixtures (most of which tasted only slightly better than goat's pee, in my humble opinion), and an unending litany of admonishments to "rest, rest, and _keep resting_". I complied, but whenever I got tired of all that "rest" I would quietly slip away from my rather suffocating but well-meaning caretakers and leave to seek out Aragorn near the watch-towers of the city, where the Ranger had almost-literally set up camp.

Once he was satisfied that I would be all right in the care of the healers without him, the Ranger had sought out a place near said towers, on the porch of one of the buildings nearby where he could keep an eye on the mountains: specifically the White Mountains, where the beacons of Amon Dîn stretched in a long row from Gondor, just waiting to be lit. I knew he was waiting for Gandalf's signal, the sign that meant that Gondor was calling for aid. Every day, he would go to that same porch all alone, and his gaze would turn south to where the white city lay, and then he would just wait, as patient as a spider waiting for dinner to fly into its web. Outwardly, all about him appeared calm, but I and those who knew and loved him could easily sense the inner tension that bound him, wrapped around him like a tangle of thorny vines. He worried for Gondor, I knew, and though I wasn't sure I understood completely why – though from Ethyliss I felt I had a pretty good idea - all that mattered to me was that the safety of that city was important to _him_, and so it was important to me as well.

Sometimes, Legolas and Gimli would join him there, or sometimes Merry, who had grown quieter, more subdued and serious with Pippin gone. Éowyn had gone once, but no more after, forced to stay in the hall in order to tend to matters that commanded her attention as the Lady of Rohan. And I – well, I could almost certainly be found there every day if not confined to the healing wing, stretched out at his side, supported and strengthened by his silent presence as we sat and gazed southwards together without speaking or moving any more than we absolutely had to. The healers protested at first, of course, but stopped after the first day when they realized that far from worsening, my strength and overall health seemed to improve with closer proximity to the Ranger. Whatever it was that had drawn me to Aragorn for the restoration of my hope, it now kept me bound to him even after Kelda's gift of Sincerity had helped me regain what I had lost, and I found that staying by his side actually helped me heal far faster and better than any of the remedies and cures that the healers tried to give me. I was markedly improved and much stronger with Aragorn near me at all times, and so by the second day they allowed me to return to sleep with my friends in our room and by the third, they were encouraging me to follow the Ranger wherever he went, as closely as a second shadow - not completely understanding why he made me better but knowing as healers not to question a cure that worked.

It was here, during the time we spent together, that I learned a little more about Gondor and Rohan, two lands that Aragorn had visited before as a younger man, though under a different name. Thorongil, he had called himself, 'Eagle of the Star', and he had served under Théoden's father Thengel and under the Steward Ecthelion II of Gondor. He told me of the Oath of Eorl, a promise sworn by Eorl on behalf of himself and his heirs that should Gondor ever be attacked, the Rohirrim would be bound to come to its aid under pain of falling into shadow and becoming an accursed people. This in turn, though Aragorn said no more about the subject, told me how strange and out of character it must have seemed to him when Théoden-King had almost turned against this oath of his forefather, when he'd seemed almost ready to forget the Oath of Eorl and ignore Gondor's cry for help. Because of that, Aragorn had his doubts regarding the King, I knew. He worried that when the time came and Gondor lit the beacons and called for Rohan's aid, that Théoden would truly ignore the call and leave Gondor to their fate. But I knew better. Théoden was a man of integrity and honor, a good man with a golden heart who would not betray the word of his ancestor. He would not simply leave a nation that was in need to their own devices, and he would not abandon allies or friends when they needed him and his men and all the strength that Rohan had to offer. And I was sure that Aragorn, deep in his heart, knew this too.

So, on the fourth or fifth day when the sudden blaze of urgent orange first appeared on the peak of the hill nearest to Edoras, we neither of us hesitated or stopped to think. Aragorn got slowly to his feet, staring at the flaming light as though in disbelief that the signal was finally here, and then he turned, dropped the bowl of stew that was supposed to have been his breakfast, and bolted for the Golden Hall. I sighed, looked regretfully at the wasted food and set off after him at a light clip, following him all the way down the path, up the steps, over the landing and into Meduseld, where he exploded into the main hall, slamming the doors open and crying out:

"The beacons of Minas Tirith! The beacons are lit!"

Thudding to a halt before the King and his startled advisors, Aragorn panted, "Gondor calls for aid." His eyes flew up, filled with a conflicting mixture of expectation and uncertainty, and landed directly on the King.

Éowyn moved from her place by the fire to stand beside and slightly in front of her brother Éomer. Legolas' eyes narrowed slightly from where he and Gimli stood quietly by one of the great golden pillars that lined the hall. The room fell silent, and everyone watched and waited as the King nodded thoughtfully to Aragorn, his expression stoically unreadable as he seemed to reach some silent conclusion in his mind.

Our faith in the King was not proven wrong. Straightening a little, proud and tall, Théoden declared, "And Rohan will answer!" Looking towards Éomer, he commanded, "Muster the Rohirrim!"

The Third Marshal nodded to his King, clasped his sister's shoulder gently, and left. Aragorn's anxiety melted into a quick, barely-there look of immense relief and gratitude, and then he too straightened and moved to speak with the King. Rohan was preparing for war, and the King and he exchanged some brief yet emotion-charged words over the table before I saw both men clasping each other's shoulders in the age-old symbol of brotherhood and friendship, whatever had been between them now buried and forgotten like dust on the wind. The Stones around my neck reacted as always to my emotions and theirs, and the blue glow of Friendship was especially bright in response to them both. And yet my heart felt strangely conflicted between relief and fear, for soon those who were left of our group of friends, along with thousands of brave Rohirrim, would be riding off to war.

Legolas came to stand by me, and I looked up at the Elf and at Gimli, who stood flanking his friend. He seemed to understand my sigh, and he lowered his hand to ruffle my fur in a gesture that I had long since grown used to and loved well.

'_It'll be all right,'_ the gentle touch said without words, and I nodded uncertainly, thinking of the fighting and pain that was surely soon to come.

Outside, a bell began to clang, calling for the sons of Eorl to gather together for battle and war… and an age-old promise that had been made from one great man to another long, long ago…

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"_Forth rode the king, fear behind him,  
__fate before him. Fealty kept he;  
oaths he had taken, all fulfilled them."_

_- Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King, J.R.R. Tolkien_

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The courtyard of Edoras was soon filled with the thunder of many horses and men, all gathering together and preparing to ride at the King's command. Where only a few days before the city had been getting ready for celebration of life and victory, today they prepared to ride for war. I watched from the window of our room, perched on a chair with front paws on the sill, as the full muster of Edoras was called out, knowing that the King wanted all to ride out come noon to Dunharrow, a refuge of the Rohirrim hidden in the White Mountains and fortified against attack.

It wasn't just the men I was watching, but also the families who had come out to bid them farewell and safe riding. Women were weeping, holding husbands, sons and brothers close, eliciting promises that they would return when the war had ended, when the enemy had been defeated – promises the men themselves might not be able to keep, but for the women's sake, they made them anyway. I saw children watching: some in excitement, some in quiet acceptance and fearful sorrow – and they too, were being hugged and kissed, and I had no doubt they received the same promises of return that had so reassured the women, even if they too knew that such promises were futile…

I sighed. The gift of Sincerity, while having saved my life, was only a pain in my heart here, causing me to ache deep inside for these innocent souls. Although remaining safely here at home, the woman and children were nonetheless as equally affected by the war as the men who fought in it. While the men fought for the safety of themselves and their families, it was obvious to me that the women and children had their own battles to conquer here at home, waiting and hoping and praying for their loved ones to return home safely. Fathers, husbands, brothers, sons… even cousins and uncles and lovers. To have the courage to wait – I wasn't sure I could do that and not go completely stir-crazy, unable to do anything but stay put, care for the home and children, and hope that my loved ones would make it home in the end. That took a brand of courage that too often went unrecognized and unvalued, and I just…

Sighing, I turned from the window, ignoring the echoing sighs of the Stone. Sitting there and watching them wouldn't help matters any. The time for such musing was over – I had a decision to make.

Aragorn had been hesitant to allow me to follow everyone to Dunharrow, seeing as how I had yet to recover my full strength. He insisted on having Master Redwulf examine me again, and only when the healer had determined that I could probably make the journey to Dunharrow at least with little to no complications did he agree that I could go along, if I so wanted to. I wasn't completely recovered, but the part of me that was wolf had given me a hardiness that no half-Elven could ever hope to possess, and so the healer was pretty certain that I would be fine – especially if I stayed near Aragorn, and since the Ranger was a healer in his own right, Aragorn could then decide on his own if I was fit to join the men in battle later on.

My friend had sighed in resigned acceptance at the healer's words, then looked at me and told me that he would let me decide if I wanted to go with them or not. He wouldn't make me stay or go one way or the other… as far as Dunharrow at least, he would leave the decision completely up to me. This was all fine and good, and I'm sure he meant well, but I was rather torn. See… I wasn't completely certain that I really wanted to go. Now, there was no question that I would willingly follow my friends to the ends of the earth in the name of Friendship, but somehow, this time I was just reluctant to join in the fight. It would have been different, had I been a fierce warrior like Gimli, or a skilled fighter like Legolas, or even a great leader of Men, like Aragorn. I'd have actually been needed then, there wouldn't have been much of a choice. But I wasn't. So far, I was just someone tagging along, riding on the backdraft from my friends' wings. I wasn't a hero – they were. I was like a sidekick, swimming along in their wake. And I don't know when I had changed… but I wasn't as eager to fight as I had once been, and I felt that maybe I wanted to stay here, in Meduseld, safe…

…and alone. For even Éowyn and Merry were going: Éowyn following the tradition of the women of the court to farewell the men, and Merry as the newly named esquire of Rohan – therefore, both for the love of Théoden of Rohan, albeit in different forms and guises.

Noon was coming soon, and I was nowhere nearer to a decision of any kind. Anxious and uncertain, knowing that two paths lay before me and I either had to choose one to take or let it be chosen for me, I went outside of the hall, watching as Aragorn mounted Brego amidst the throng of Rohirrim. Ah, dang. Forget coming soon, noon was_ here_. The men were turning their horses, and Théoden-King was already riding towards the main gates. I saw Gimli and Legolas on the faithful Arod, and the Lady Éowyn on her horse, Windfola, and even little Merry was bouncing energetically on a small hill-pony, a shaggy white-gray creature named Stybba. There, they were all going. Now was the time, to go or not to go?

Aragorn looked up and met my gaze. Holding that gray stare, I saw the question in his eyes as he turned Brego to face me for a moment. My heart was pounding, and I heard a sort of roaring in my ears as I stood there, unable to move, unable to decide, staring back wide-eyed at my friend… I couldn't decide, it was like my paws would start to jerk forward and move, but then they'd stop and stay still as fear and uncertainty kept them down and stationary. I had no idea… stay or go? Stay or go?

_Just as far as Dunharrow… where another decision could then be made. After all, wouldn't Éowyn be returning to Edoras too? _

With reluctant, cautious steps, each one uncertain and testing, I padded over to Brego's side, emboldened and slightly reassured by my friend's encouraging, understanding smile. As I had with Legolas, I knew what he was saying, though he used no words – and I had a pretty good idea that he could see right through me, too and knew exactly how torn I was about this.

"_It'll be all right, Lady…"_

And I nodded back, answering the only way I could, and together we followed the line of Rohirrim towards the gates of the city. The Stone of Sincerity still wept for those who would be left behind, but right now, I was still coming to terms with the idea that I wouldn't be one of them.

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Kudos, please drop a review! :)

RK9.


	37. The Mountain's Shadow: The Eighth Stone

**Disclaimer: **Lord of the Rings is not mine. Only Lady is. And that Nature Spirit. And the Stones. And the plot. The rest, uh, I'm pretty sure belongs to Mr Tolkien if you recognize it as book/movie thingy....

**Author's notes:** FF dot net was being a major pain today. First, broadband connection went funky, so ff dot net was down, along with several sites. (I think it's just my area. How annoying. That's Malaysian broadband for you - it's called Streamyx but there's a reason we nickname it Screamyx.) Next, I uploaded the document correctly, but for some weird reason everything was jumbled up together in one paragraph and I had to fix that. Upon saving, it jumbled up again. . And again. Reload document. Jumbled. Fix. Save. Jumbled. Fix. Save. Jumbled - reupload a third time.... jumbled and squashed and bolded randomly. (I know, like wtc?) Fix. Save. Whoa, it works! (breaks down and cries with relief and thanks God a few thousand times)

Why, ff dot net, why??? Why do you hate me? I mean, if you don't want me to post chapter 9, you could let me know, you know, and I wouldn't!!!

(pause) To tell the truth, maybe no one would even miss it?

But is that any excuse to make my life miserable???

Anyway, before I get my account banned or something (coughsorrylacough).... here's chapter 9 for y'all. Enjoy. :) My many thanks to all who reviewed, and btw I'm sorry for this late update. I was not well - still not well, actually. I have inflamed ribs since coming back from work, and it's all hurting and tight and painful throughout my chest cavity. Yeah. So I didn't have much muse to write. Thanks for reading anyway.

**Update 13 Feb, 2009:** Reuploaded and removed the quote from the bottom of the chapter. Sorry all. That's for the beginning of the next chapter - in my frustration with ff dot net, I forgot.

**Review responses: **

**Empress Hellfire** - In response to your last PM which I didn't manage to reply to.... actually, most Mary Sues are smart. They're so supremely intelligent that they make people like Socrates, Plato, Aristotle... _Gandalf_... look like morons. LOL. Anyway, good luck with your fic, keep on keeping on!

**BadWolf-Phoenix - **Hm. I think she'll learn that towards the end, about the same time I reveal her name? Or if she changes back? LOL. But it won't be the CAUSE of her changing back, you know? ;) Thanks!

**SSJ Girl** - Well, if you're really curious, you can PM me and ask for spoilers, but uh... you know one thing about revealing spoilers way ahead of time? They bite. It causes you to lose interest in the fic. You won't want to read anymore. You'll hate me for telling you... so uh... patience? ;) Thanks for the review!

**Temeti** - No, don't worry. I enjoy reading people's guesses in their reviews - it's not annoying at all. Hey, my mum and aunt do that too, so I'm used to it. NO worries. Do keep reviewing and guessing as you please! Thanks for reading! :)

**sandcat** - Always good to hear that you liked the chapter. Gosh, I've been so worried that people will hate these recent ones... I'll try to do better, I really will!

**memory bleeds - **Your review last time made me question whether or not I'd written the last chapter with mistakes in it, but I checked again and didn't see anything about Lady not wanting to fight because she was 'afraid'. Check again, dear. :) There's a difference between being _reluctant_ to fight, and being _afraid_ to fight. Lady is not a coward - if need be, she'll take on Sauron himself for her friends and their safety, and fight like a real hero with spit and fire and plenty of courage. She's just reluctant to fight, reluctant to go somewhere and do something where she thinks she cannot contribute - she might be mistaken, but that's her perspective I'm writing from, not everyone else's. So no, she doesn't "fear battle" and I'd say there isn't a shred of cowardice within her. She's just reluctant to fight, and that's all. Thanks anyway - hope you understand better now. ;) Do keep reading, and drop me another review after!

On to chapter 9.....

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**Chapter 9**

We travelled through the night, stopping only to rest and water the horses, and for a brief sleep in the shadow of the Halifirien, a hill that was part of the White Mountains and nearest to Edoras, where the flaming beacon still burned. Before the sun came up, we all rose to ride again, and by mid-morning we had reached the valley of Harrowdale and were making our way up the Stair of the Hold, a switchback path that zigzagged its way up a sheer cliff and happened to be the only way up to the plateau where the Hold of Dunharrow lay, along with the Firienfeld, or mountain field of Dunharrow. This winding road was difficult even for me, especially since I was tired from traveling, but Aragorn kept an eye on me and helped me to keep climbing, even after falling down numerous times. I'd swear the man had a mild "I-told-you-so" look in his eyes, but nothing came from his mouth but encouragement and gentle words that lifted my spirits and helped me stay on the path. Each step upwards became a victory, and when at last I reached the top, I was both surprised and pleased to hear actual applause echo softly around me. Looking around, I realized that most of the Rohirrim had been watching my ascent as well, and as all of Edoras had been made aware of my recent illness, they were impressed and admiring at the fact that I had made it this far.

Aragorn gave me a little grin, murmured, "Stay beside me, Lady," and brought Brego into a light trot towards the King and his horse Snowmane.

Panting a little, I caught my breath and waited for Merry instead. His hill-pony Stybba clopped along at a steady rate, tougher than even I was in my present condition, managing to keep up with the massive war-horses that were nearly twice his size and strength. But the strength of his little pony heart was easily the match of theirs, and soon he and the hobbit had made it up to the cliff-top beside me. Merry looked flushed and happy, excitedly looking around as he realized that we were here at last.

"Did you see the statues, Lady?" he asked, catching sight of me as we both began moving again. I nodded – he meant the ancient statues that the Rohirrim called "Púkel-men", the rather sad-looking carved figures that had appeared at each turn of the Stair, guardians that had stood there for as almost as long as the land they guarded. Time had made them weather-beaten and old, and if once they had inspired fear and power, now they just looked pitiful, and Merry said so. I guessed that I was the only one who could still see any power left in them, and even that was due to the Stones, and the traces I felt were faint. They gave me creeping chills down my spine, but in the light of day, could not truly frighten me.

Shrugging my shoulders at the hobbit in a good-natured but general response, I reached over with my teeth to adjust the green scarf I was wearing at Lady Éowyn's suggestion – the idea being that my wearing the colors of Rohan might protect me from other strange Rohirrim who might not know that I was friend and not foe, and a guest of the King. For by now there were many others from other parts of Rohan all gathered here at Dunharrow, and only those from Edoras knew exactly who and what I was. Still, I wasn't so sure I was safe even so, and so I trotted forward to rejoin Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli on either side of the King even as the heralds cleared the way for us with stentorian calls.

"Make way! Make way for the King!"

Instantly a babble of shouting came up from the many encampments that had been made around us.

"The King! The King is here!"

"My Lord!"

"Hail to you, Sire!"

If I hadn't had much chance before to see Théoden as an actual King of Men, I surely did now, seeing the love and loyalty and admiration the people had for the great Man who led them. The King of Rohan tilted his head graciously to each man who called out to him, nodding and even smiling to some, but never losing his focus on what needed to be done. Every inch a great leader atop the regal Snowmane, he called out to his men as well, finding out how many had responded to his call for able-bodied men from throughout the Riddermark.

The numbers did not sound at all promising.

"Grimbold, how many?"

"I bring five hundred men from the Westfold, my Lord," came the reply.

"We have three hundred more from Fenmarch, Théoden-King," Gamling reported from in front of his tent.

"Where are the Riders from Snowbourne?" Théoden frowned.

"None have come, my Lord," answered Gamling quietly, and I felt as well as saw the disappointment that flickered through both Aragorn's and Théoden's faces.

I glanced around for the first time, truly looking at the men who were gathered here. There were more than a few gazes looking right back at me, at the wolf who was running alongside the King into the throng of Rohirrim. The usual caution and suspicion colored some expressions, while others only seemed curious, wanting to know who I was and why I was here. Either way, I was busy looking at the numbers, not responses to me, and had soon come to the conclusion that although many had come, there weren't enough to break through the lines of Mordor.

Not nearly enough.

My heart sank, and I wondered if maybe it was a good thing that I had come after all. Even if I could not fight, I could try, try to fill in the space of the men that we did not have, somehow take the place of the strength that was needed. I could fight, I could help, I could defend these people and help them win. I could… I don't know, but there had to be _something_ I could do…

But no. That was the dream of a naïve child, possibly even a boastful and idiotically arrogant one… but all I wanted to do was to help my friends, and everyone here. And yet, what could _I_ do? Even with my newest Stone… Sincerity could only take me so far. I was neither hero nor fighter, and certainly no help when it came to winning a war…

As we stopped to pitch up tents and make sure the horses were seen to, I wandered slowly off on my own, instinct making me move cautiously towards the shadow of the mountain. The horses were restless, and I felt I understood their fear, for there was something about the very air of the mountain that didn't settle right, something abnormal that we couldn't see but knew to fear, as a child knows to fear the monsters beneath their beds and the creatures that lurk in their closets. Only _these_ monsters were real, and we were right to fear them… even if we couldn't see them, we knew they were there.

I saw Aragorn detach from the company of the King after a while, but then a sudden and vague semblance of movement caught my attention from the corner of my eye and turned my attention back to the mountain. A long pathway, murky with a layer of unnatural mist and fog that didn't exactly inspire feelings of welcome and warmth, stretched into the mountains far behind, and I thought I saw a wisp of something green that lurked there, waiting, watching…

"Aragorn!" Gimli's voice was unexpectedly loud and startling, and I jumped along with the Ranger as the Dwarf gripped our friend on the shoulder. Right beside me, unnoticed, the Ranger had apparently been watching the strange path as well, and was as jumpy as I was. Gimli frowned at us both, but then apparently shrugged off our strange reactions and mumbled something about finding food. Aragorn declined politely, and when I saw his gaze slowly moving back towards the mountain I followed it, too. There was nothing there now, but I wasn't quite convinced that I'd merely been imagining things. Falling behind as Aragorn lowered his gaze and turned around to follow Gimli again, I eyed the mountain with a suspicious gaze, and felt the warning glow from the Stones at my throat.

No matter. The wolf was a patient hunter, and I knew how to wait for my prey to resurface again at a later time. Turning slowly away with narrowed eyes, I followed my friends away.

By dinner time though, I was certain that I did not like being here at all. The wolf's sixth sense, normally unnecessary and dormant within me, was now on full alert as it insisted that there was something here that needed to be feared. Aragorn seemed to sense it too, and was uncharacteristically quiet and contemplative as he ate with Legolas, Gimli, Merry and I, all seated in a small group outside our tents. The Elf watched him carefully, as in tune to his strange mood as I, though he did not seem as worried about the Ranger as I was. Darkness was falling over the Hold… and my uneasiness only grew as night slowly took over the land. Worry brought me to my paws, and I began to wonder if the impending danger that I sensed was the reason I'd been so reluctant to leave Edoras in the first place.

A hand on my shoulder stopped me from leaving the area of the tents, and I turned to meet Aragorn's silver gaze. Intense and alive with some sort of knowledge that I did not fully understand and yet recognized from the echoes of the same voice that I'd heard before in my head - usually in connection with the Stones - I was brought to a standstill as he held my gaze and said:

"Lady, please stay here. I don't want you wandering outside on your own… please, just stay here with me for a while."

I swallowed hard, slightly puzzled, sensing with all six senses that somehow there was more to his request than just worry over my well-being… but I could not deny him when he was using that intense, oddly desperate tone, and so I nodded and turned back towards him and my friends, shrugging in answer to their strange looks, though Aragorn just seemed relieved that I was still here. When he chose to retire early for the night, I followed him in puzzledly, but without question or complaint, bidding Legolas, Gimli and Merry a quick farewell with nuzzle-licks and soft whine-whimpers. Legolas had a strange expression on his face, but he gently rubbed my head and neck and urged me to go and get some rest. When I entered our tent, Aragorn had removed his outer layer of armor and tumbled down to lie quietly atop the covers, and I found a comfortable pallet laid out for me by his bed.

I still did not know what was wrong. But perhaps, if I slept now, I might find Ethyliss waiting in my dreams… and I had more than just a few questions that I needed to ask her. And so I closed my eyes and ears and nose, and actively began to search for the comfort of sleep as the Ranger's own breathing evened out right beside me.

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_It wasn't so easy at first. Sleep led me to normal dreams, then to night-visions, in which I saw fleeting images that darted past and around me like children playing at keep-away. There was one of a dark, winding stair, narrow and steep and vile-looking, and at the top I knew danger lurked in waiting within a cavern-like pass of complete darkness, where no light shone. Another was a view of a great stone archway, the entrance to an equally darkened place, a cave where the ghosts of many men waited, buried along with the light of hope that was thought long-lost. I saw a great white tree, still and silent in suffering, fading away into Death, and long fields where the Enemy's army was gathering in a mighty host that seemed countless and undefeatable, while above them the shadow of a great winged malice swooped and soared and screeched. And one image in particular was particularly insistent, even slightly disturbing – the image of a black river, clouded by night, into which I was falling, falling, _falling…

_I turned away, sickened, seeing my death in the dark water that rushed towards me as I fell. Fear prickled my fur, touching the edges of my dreams, but unlike before when I had let fear direct me into misusing the Stones and ignoring my heart, now instead I reached deep within to a strength I had not even known I possessed, letting instinct and the light of the Stones guide me forward and away through the distracting sights and sounds, beyond the images of past, future and present which I wasn't yet prepared to handle. They weren't the reason I was here, no… _

_I was looking for Ethyliss. Reminding myself of my goal, I thought of the dreamscape, picturing the lush green forest in my mind, seeing the clear crystal pool of water and the little butterflies that danced and played with me as birdsong fell around us in a musical rain. The memory of the scents and sounds of that place was so real in my mind, so near yet so far… and yet, it was but a moment later that I realized that everything had become real – or as real as things get in dreams. _

_The instant I opened my eyes, there I was. The dreamscape stretched before me, as green and great as when I'd first arrived here, and now I sighed in pleasure and contentment as I looked around, knowing that Ethyliss was near. Good. I had questions for her. _

_The bushes rustled, and my friend stepped out, not keeping me waiting this time. Blind eyes locked on me with that strange sightless accuracy, and I waited for her to speak, knowing that she was about to. _

_I was right._

**_- Hello, daughter of Huan,-_**_ my friend said, smiling despite the tiredness in her voice.__**- So, you have finally found your way here on your own. Welcome, indeed. I'm sorry I could not deliver the seventh Stone to you myself, but…-** _

It was something Kelda had to do, wasn't it?_ I finished her sentence for her, surprising myself as I realized that I knew this to be true. The Stone of Sincerity, unlike the others, had had a Bearer, and in order to be passed on to another, it had to be done in person, from Stonebearer to Stonebearer, with willingness on the part of the current Bearer and acceptance from the new Bearer who would carry the Stone and its burden from then on. Only then could the new Bearer unlock the true power of the Stone, and use it as it was intended to be used. _

_Ethyliss smiled again, and I straightened and looked at her. The rich light of Knowledge spilled around me, an encouraging and guiding presence, and soon the other Stones were shining out with their own light as well. I felt… different, somehow. I'd come here alone and afraid, uncertain and full of questions, but now – something was different. When I'd found my way here, it was as though I'd unlocked something inside of me, and now I was afraid no more…_

_Straightening and turning solemn, Ethyliss bowed slightly to me and intoned, _**_- Welcome, _Stonebearer**_**. You have awoken within yourself, I see. -** _

_Stonebearer?_

_It was the first time she hadn't called me 'little one' or 'daughter of Huan', but somehow this new term felt right, and I nodded graciously back to her, somehow knowing exactly how to respond and what to say. _

_Stonebearer._

_Yes, that was now who I was. And with that new identity came the knowledge and confidence and inner ability and strength that I needed so urgently right now, to be who I was and to act as a Stonebearer should. Words came to me, words and actions to suit them, and I did not hesitate as I turned back to Ethyliss - and "spoke". _

**_- Yes, caretaker of the earth and forest, I am awake now, but I fear this will not last into the waking world. Still, I thank you for your help this far, Nature-dweller… and ask only that you assist me once again. There are things that she… that I?… need to know. No, worry not, wisdom-light, -_**_I addressed the light of Knowledge with me newfound mental voice as it flickered anxiously at me, dancing around my body in ribbon-like swirls, worried over my slight stumble when it came to deciding whether I was me or 'her'... _**_- I will not separate my identity again, nor will I forget who I am. I am of the Light, and nothing will drive me away from it now that I have awakened. Earth-sister, -_**_ I turned back to Ethyliss, who watched me with an open expression of love and relief and restored faith as I spoke. __**- Ethyliss. I need to know…Why does the hope of Isildur's heir wane? -** _

_And suddenly, the part of me that was still the "old" me realized that yes, that was what was happening to Aragorn, and somehow, this "new" part of me had seen this although I had not realized that I knew. He was worrying for his city, the white city without a King, and now his strange mood – his faith and hope were waning, not as drastically or as quickly as mine had drained away, but you could see it was dripping out, as though through a tiny hole that would only get bigger with time, one that needed to be detected and plugged up early._

_The Nature Spirit sighed, seeming reluctant to answer, yet replying anyway. __**- You might have awakened, but still there are parts of you that sleep if you do not already know the answer, Stonebearer. Still, I made you a promise that I would not keep you imprisoned in the darkness of ignorance, and so I will tell you. It is true, the son of Arathorn and Gilraen the Fair is struggling with his failing Hope. But that cannot be helped, for you are currently sapping it from him. Trace amounts only, it is true, but your weakened body has found a source that enables it to regain and retain its strength and so it continues to drain Hope from him, although you no longer need to do so. The connection between you both has become stronger, Stonebearer, and it will be difficult for you to let go of him now that you no longer need to borrow his strength… but not impossible, and I'm afraid that if you do not unlink yourself from him, this Hope-sapping that you are doing will harm him more and more each day… -** _

**_- I thought at first it was because of the mountain! -_**_ Dismayed and horrified, I blurted the first thing that came to mind. So, Aragorn was suffering now because of me…? _

**_- No, Stonebearer, -_**_ came the gentle response. __**- The mountain's call to him comes from a different source, and that is one you cannot change or direct. Destiny calls him from that path of darkness inside of it, and it will be his choice whether to answer or not. He alone must decide whether to take up or cast away the mantle of his lineage, and that is for him and him alone to worry about. The time to make this decision will come soon enough - as yours did when you made the choice to come to Dunharrow - and I believe he knows this, and that is why he is anxious and worried, as you were, in your turn. He feels that Destiny is forcing his hand, but it isn't really. In his heart, he knows he must become who he was meant to be. -** _

**_- He does not desire it, -_**_ I argued. _

**_- But he _is**_** Isildur's heir, -** __ Ethyliss responded calmly, and I nodded resignedly, knowing that was true. _

**_- That still does not explain his connection to me, dear friend, -_**_ I reminded her, remembering something else that had been puzzling me for some time now – why exactly was it that only Aragorn had been able to heal me and restore my hope, and why was it that only he had been able to soothe and comfort me when death had nearly taken me from this world? Why not Legolas, or Gimli, or Merry and my other friends whom I also loved? Why only him? Aragorn's position as Isildur's heir explained exactly nothing about that… it didn't seem to make sense that that was the reason that I was so tied to him. _

**_- No, it doesn't, does it….Ah, Stonebearer, -_**_ sighed the Nature Spirit.__**- That connection is something that is difficult for even me to truly understand. It stems from the very nature of Hope and Light, and cannot be explained until you have fully come into your own. For you, like Aragorn, have your own Destiny to fulfill, your own lessons to learn, and your own call to answer. -** _

_I frowned. There wasn't much I could say to that. The Stonebearer in me understood, even as the "old" me railed and protested. It wasn't fair… but it was what was. I wanted to know now… but I needed to wait, and so I would. I was the Stonebearer now, more than just Lady… and different because of it. _

_The connection I had with the dreamscape was shaking in my "grip" now, and I could barely hold it together. Newly awakened as I was, I did not have the strength or power to stay here for too long, it seemed. Somehow I knew that Ethyliss could help me hold on to it if she wanted to, but she didn't. Instead she bent and pressed something small into my collar on the back of my neck, along with a gentle, sorrowful kiss on my forehead. Tears glistened in her eyes, one falling wetly and warmly to bless me on the head. _

**_- I love you, -_**_she whispered, and I heard the rattle of emotion in her mind-voice. __**- This will be your last time here, Saeduil's daughter, for you will soon be going to a place where I will not be able to follow, far beyond the borders of my reach. This is my final gift to you, and now that you have unlocked the Stonebearer within, you will know what it is and how to use it when the time comes. Listen well, for the final Stone I do not have in my possession, I never have had it and I never will. You must find it on your own… my blessing goes with you, little one, and may it keep you safe from harm until you come into your own along with the son of Arathorn and all your friends. The future of Middle-earth rests on all your shoulders, but remember that I believe in you…And that the location of the final Stone will only be revealed when you discover the Light inside… -** _

_Then, stepping back from my baffled, disbelieving gaze, she looked suddenly southward and whispered, __**- Gandalf, I leave her to you now… -** _

_And the connection snapped, escaping my tenuous grasp completely, and I jerked back into full alertness in the waking world…_

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"Urnghh!"

I leapt off my pallet, tail high and head jerking left and right before I'd even fully awakened, startled out of sleep by the sudden cry that came from Aragorn's lips, and even more surprised when he shot upright in bed, a knife in his hand aimed towards the entrance of our tent, where one of Théoden's guards stood waiting. The Ranger looked towards him, rippling with the scent of fear, but I saw his muscles slowly relaxing as he realized that there was no danger here.

"Sir?" The guard looked strangely at him, rather startled by the loud reaction and the knife that had flashed out. "King Théoden awaits you, my lord." He glanced warily at me and added, "Just Lord Aragorn, my lady."

I looked to Aragorn, who had the last say in my eyes as to whether I stayed or went. The guard left, but Aragorn was slowly becoming more and more aware of himself and his surroundings. After a moment, he threw back his covers and got to his feet.

"I'll be right back, Lady," he told me, his silver gaze fully alert, yet distracted and thoughtful as he pulled on his boots and moved to the tent entrance. "Go on back to sleep."

If he was sure… I sent him a doubtful look, but settled down again and closed my eyes. I wasn't so sure that I could find sleep again, but no matter what, there were many things that I needed to sort out in my head. And I supposed that I wouldn't be able to think through them properly while I was eavesdropping, so…

All right then. Back to sleep it was. Wriggling into a more comfortable position, I yawned and glanced thoughtfully out through the swinging tent-flap...

Well, for a little while, anyway.

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RK9.


	38. New Developments and More Farewells

**Disclaimer:** Blah, blah.... jealous mutterings...blah... not mine... blah... never will be... glares... mumble... sigh.

**Author's notes: **Sorry, everyone! Thing is, I've been busy with driving lessons and working on my new Warriors role play forum, based on the books by Erin Hunter - for anyone interested in checking it out, the url is http : / / daltorre . proboards . com. It's not complete yet, I'm still working on headers/footers and some territories, but it's open for auditions and bios!

Ahem. Advertisement over, here's chapter 10! Enjoy! I'm working on chapter 12, waiting on beta approval for chapter 11, and will be attempting to bring you all that action I know you're waiting for! Please, bear with me! Thanks to all who reviewed! You guys are what encourages me to go on as a writer, even when I feel I'm failing you all with chapter content and quality... but please, do keep reading and review if you like it! In fact, review if you don't! Concrit, I need that too. ^.^

**Review responses:**

**CRAZY little Dragon - **You have a suspicion? Oh dear... xD Well, you'll just have to wait and see if you're right, then. I think I won't be spoiling anything or anyone for a while... Care to share your suspicion? LOL, of well, anyway, thanks for reviewing!

**memory bleeds** - Oh, no, you didn't offend me! I was just concerned that you misunderstood, so I explained. And don't worry. I've read too many Sue-fics out there where the main character is always Aragorn's sister/cousin/twin/mysterious half-sibling... and Lady is, apparently, already a borderline Sue - I won't be making her related to Aragorn, no. No worries there. :) And thanks! Glad you still like it!

**Black Wolf-Dog** - Well, I'm not going to spoil you on the location of the final Stone... but Lady should find out about Aragorn towards the end of this fic. Means towards the end - this is still a beginning or a middle. As for her skulking around - well, read below. ;)

**BadWolf-Phoenix** - Stone of Love? Hm.. no, she doesn't have it yet - read below to see what it was. And you might want to refresh your memory of the Stones she has? LOL. If not, that's fine too. Thanks for reading!

**Mish** - Welcome back! I wondered where you'd gotten to. Um... if you're still wondering about Aragorn and Lady discovering their old "connection", this chapter will probably frustrate you... lol. Towards the end of this fic, I suppose. Glad you're still here! Hope you stick around, and thanks for reviewing!

**ShadowDmn** - No worries, I tend to ramble myself. :) Thanks for the encouraging review! Yes, I started this years ago as an Aragorn/OC, but have recently decided not to put any romance in this fic at all, because of what Lady currently is - it'd just be _wrong_, somehow, and rather Mary-Sueish for them to start falling in love with her... if they did while she was a wolf, that's... well... it could be classified under how they're not racist or prejudiced, but it would seem rather wrong, wouldn't it? LOL. You know me, striving for realism... And gosh, I never thought people might be put off by the length. I assumed they'd look at the prologue, think "Mary Sue", and run away fast. LOL. Anyway, thanks, and keep reading! ^.^

**Rushingriver -** Not gonna spoil you. :) Keep reading!

**fairy246** - Interesting theory - what do you mean by soul mates? I shall not explain until I understand what you mean by that, so I have a clearer understanding. Thanks for reviewing!

**Inspired Butterfly - **Thanks, the ribs are much better now. And thanks for the review, too! ^.^

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"_The hardest thing you'll ever learn is how to say goodbye."_

_-__ Allison "Allie" Keys, Taken_

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**Chapter 10**

All right, so I lied. I didn't even bother attempting to return to sleep, because I had a lot of things to sort out by now, and for once I wanted to actually start _sorting_ them, rather than do what I normally did and let my problems pile up into an uncontrollable pile of emotional baggage and junk. Let's recap – my dreams, while informative, hadn't answered all the questions that I'd had, nor had I been able to ask Ethyliss all that I'd wanted to. In the process, somehow I'd received a new Stone – what Stone exactly, I had yet to discover – and awakened…. what, the Stonebearer inside of me?

I know. If you think your head is spinning just from all that, how do you think I currently felt?

And somehow I had to figure out a way to stop myself from draining away Aragorn's hope, because now I was hurting the friend I claimed to love, and to top it all off I had to figure out how to find the final Stone without Ethyliss' help… because I wouldn't be able to reach her now.

My ears drooped, and my entire body kind of shifted in a deep sigh. It was just too much all at once. I could practically feel the stress levels inside me rising, like a river overflowing its banks. I was worried and scared and tired and not completely at full strength, and to top it all off, I was grieving now, for the friend to whom I had not truly had a chance to say goodbye to. Ethyliss… had she known, when I'd sought her out, that this would be my last visit? She'd certainly acted as though she'd known… and she hadn't mentioned anything until the last moment, seconds before I'd lost the connection with her in the dreamscape. Why? Because she hadn't wanted to say goodbye? But how would I go on without her? She seemed to think I could, but I wasn't so sure. _Believe in yourself,_ she'd told me. I wasn't sure if I could…

But as I sat there, about to delve deep into the dark pits of self-doubt and fear, light exploded forth from my collar, seven colors that sang and burned and glowed. I saw the orange flame of Courage, the blue light of Friendship, lavender Kindness and golden Hope. Purple Knowledge mingled with green Sincerity, and finally a new, unknown red light came shyly to greet me with a gentle touch that I felt I understood… but before I could fully explore what it represented, it scooted away from me again, withdrawing like a forget-me-not plant from the touch of a finger or a skittish horse from a strange handler. I had a brief glimpse of a brand new symbol, but then the dancing lights were all around me, blinding me to all else, drenching me with an aurora of color and whispering to me in various voices. Only the Stone of Knowledge had an actual voice, but I understood, somehow, what the others were also saying, and in the end the message was all the same.

'_Stonebearer… _We_ believe in you. Even if you cannot see the strength within yourself, we do, and we believe. Trust your heart to show you where to go from here…and when all others have gone away, we will remain, and we will guide you.'_

It was an encouragement that I sorely needed, and if I could have, I would have cried. As it was, tears fell inside my heart, and I allowed the light of the Stones to wrap around me in a soft embrace. They faded away slowly, one by one, until at last the new red light shyly brushed against my pelt one final time and disappeared to join its brothers and sisters, leaving me to smile rather tremulously after it and wonder what light it was supposed to represent. But it didn't matter. I would find out soon enough.

Armed with courage from the Stones, I had just about decided to follow Aragorn's trail out of the tent when the flap was lifted and the Man in question entered slowly, a steady expression on his face that I had not seen since after Gandalf's fall in Moria. It was a noble expression, yet stern, and wisdom and greatness shone in his gray gaze… only this time with a new peace and acceptance and determination that I noticed right away. He held a sword in his hand, the sheath marked with intricate carvings that looked as though they were of Elven make, definitely greater than his normal sword and different from any weapon I'd ever seen before. Somehow, I knew that something had changed. Sitting up on my pallet, I looked at my friend – and saw instead a King.

I remembered what Ethyliss had said about Aragorn needing to accept his destiny, become who he was born to be… it looked as though he had now. What had changed? What had the King told him?

The Ranger – no, for he was the Ranger no longer, but a newly returned King of Men – sat down on his bed, laying the sword beside him, though he did not release it from his grasp. He looked at me, meeting my questioning gaze as though only just noticing me, and smiled for the first time since his return.

"I'm all right, Lady," he assured me, and though I searched for deceit in his words I found none. "Better than I was, certainly – but… we need to talk."

I tilted my head questioningly at him, inviting him to speak.

"I'm sorry. You see, I'm going to leave you very soon. Come dawn – no, before the sun even, I intend to take the road to the Dimholt, the door under the mountain. I will ride seeking the Paths of the Dead," Aragorn informed me, and that got me on my feet and by his side in an instant, a disbelieving whine echoing from my muzzle as I remembered the narrow, murky pathway that I had seen earlier, and the darkness I'd sensed from it. He wanted to go _there_? But why? Lord Éomer had said that none who ventured there ever returned! And to leave now, when we were about to ride to war…

My friend correctly read my expressions and reactions, and patted the bed beside him in invitation. "The whole camp will know soon, so I had better tell you, before the rumors start abounding. I would not have you worrying about me, nor would I have you lose your hope again." He sent me a concerned look, and I saw the shadow in his eyes that said he still remembered all too clearly how close to death I'd been. Silly human. I was the one sapping strength from him, and he was worried about _me_ losing my hope? Nuzzle-licking his hand, which had descended to stroke my fur as I hopped up to lie beside him, I made a valiant effort to be silent until I'd heard all he had to say.

"Six thousand spears Rohan has, Lady," Aragorn told me, locking gazes with me again. "Six thousand, not enough to break the lines of Mordor. More will come, but it will not be enough. My foster father came all this way to tell me of another force, which Sauron sends in secret to attack from the river, a fleet of Corsair ships which come from the south. Unless I do something, they will reach the city in two days. We are outnumbered, Lady. We need more men."

My heart sank at this news. He was right. But there were none… and he knew it. He nodded at my expression, gently rubbing behind an ear, and continued,

"We have but one other choice, one more hope. I must seek those who dwell within the mountain. The oathbreakers, the traitors. Do you know the story, my Lady? In the past, the Men of the mountain swore an oath to Isildur, my ancestor, the last King of Gondor. They promised that they would come to his aid, to fight. But when the time came, when Gondor's need was dire, they fled, vanishing into the darkness of the mountain. And so Isildur cursed them, never to rest until they had fulfilled their pledge."

Here he paused, looking resigned and tired, before going on, "The living have never used that road since the coming of the Rohirrim, for it is closed to them. But in this dark hour the heir of Isildur may use it, if he dares. _I_ am the heir of Isildur, Lady, and I will take that road. But I do not do so gladly, only need drives me, and I will ask none to come with me that will not do so of their own free will, for along that path they will find toil and great fear, and worse even." He paused, then looked at me and added gravely, "And Lady, I would rather that you did not come with me _at all_."

I was so startled and outraged by this suggestion that I nearly nipped the wrist that was stroking me. The very idea of staying while he went off into danger riled my fur, making me look a little like a threatened porcupine, but before I could turn my angry glare up at him, Aragorn turned my muzzle towards him and pleaded, "Lady, wait. Hear me out."

Narrowing my eyes at him, I scowled but nodded curtly, letting him talk. "I will not be bringing Merry with me, Lady, and as the king feels that it would be safer for Merry to stay out of the battle, he will surely be needing a friend later. For the love of that hobbit, who has already lost his best and closest companion, I ask that you stay here, and keep an eye or two on him in my stead. I promised Gandalf that I would look after him, and with Pippin gone, he has been lonely, though thankfully his new duties as Théoden's esquire have kept him occupied enough to move forward and past his cousin's leaving. But if we all go, and leave him behind…" My friend looked at me, and slowly my anger died as I understood what he was asking me. He wasn't asking me to leave his side because he didn't want me there, or because he felt I couldn't help – well, not _just_ because of that, anyway - but because he knew that Merry would need a friend. Legolas and Gimli would never let Aragorn leave on his own, they would follow him into the darkness of the mountain with or without Aragorn's leave, but I was a different story. I could choose to stay or go, and Aragorn had realized this, proving how well he knew all his friends. Merry needed someone, and more than just being his friend, I could also keep him safe.

But it still hurt. I felt I was being torn in two. And it would have hurt even more, had I not realized that Aragorn understood all too well what he asked of me, and yet it was something he had to ask me to do anyway.

I thought of my friends, the Three Hunters who had gained such fame already among the Rohirrim, and I thought of the path they would soon be walking. Then I thought of Merry, and of those who had been left behind at Edoras, and felt the new red light around my throat flare suddenly, wrapping around Aragorn's hand that had activated it with an accidental brush of his fingers, and then around me. There was a silent kind of implosion within me, and in my mind I saw the symbol of a red heart, and an incredible river of emotion flooded through me, the waves wild and uncontrollable and filled with a power to rival even the greatest forces of nature. And when the rush left me, and I had recovered my breath from the experience, I understood what had given those women and children the courage to wait, to stay behind while their men rode to war. Not only Hope, but another equally powerful emotion: Love.

_That_ was the new light that I had gained, the final Stone Ethyliss had had to give me. More than that, finally my question was answered, as to what it was that bound myself and Aragorn together, what it was that had caused this deep and intense connection between us. Love – though not in the traditional sense, but the love between best friends, between a brother and a sister, the kind that lacks the passion of lovers but can burn with equally strong flames, fuelled by loyalty and friendship and unseen bonds...

It was love for both Merry and Aragorn that tore me up inside, but for Aragorn I would do what was asked of me. And for Merry, because I loved him also, I would stay here, even though my heart wanted to walk the Paths of the Dead with my other friends.

'_The light that is strong as a river, old as time, unmoving as a mountain and as fierce as fire…Love is one of the most powerful weapons of the Light. For evil does not understand Love. Love cannot be felt or experienced by those of the Dark, and so they fear and hate that which they do not understand…' _

Knowledge whispered in my mind, and the red glow of the Stone of Love grew ever brighter, and I sighed and nodded reluctantly to Aragorn, who was watching the red light of the Stone with an expression of curiosity and wonder on his face. The light of Love, once so shy, now danced boldly up the Ranger's body, reaching out to touch the shining pendant that still hung around his neck –

And I saw in my mind a fleeting glimpse of a beautiful Elven lady, who lay dying on her bed, and felt for the first time how much she and Aragorn loved one another. Poor Éowyn. My friend could not give her what she wanted from him; it was but a shadow and a thought that she loved. His heart, though, belonged to another. I knew that now. The pendant he wore was a gift from her, and now I realized what the Lady Galadriel had meant when she had told him in Lorien that she had nothing to give to him that could rival the gift he already bore.

'_The Evenstar…'_ whispered Knowledge.

And an Elven lady's love.

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So it was that just before a gray dawn broke over the land, I found myself standing with Aragorn, fighting back yawns as my friend saddled and tacked up Brego in preparation for his journey. I scented Éowyn long before she arrived, her pale features filled with concern and fear for my Ranger friend, and sensing the emotions in her that told me that her farewell to Aragorn was not something for me to witness, I dipped my head respectfully to the Lady of Rohan and slipped away. Apparently she knew nothing of Aragorn's lady love, but I'd learned a little about her last night, and I knew that whatever Aragorn felt for the White Lady of Rohan, it wasn't the same kind of love that he felt for this Elven beauty named Arwen, the granddaughter of the Lady Galadriel, and the daughter of Lord Elrond of Rivendell.

Funnily enough, her father was the same Lord Elrond who had been Estel's foster father, whom Aragorn said had fostered him too – and in fact, the same one who had been the reason that Aragorn had been summoned to the King's tent last night. I'd hated that I couldn't talk, because almost immediately after learning that Aragorn knew Estel's father I'd leapt up, trying hard to ask somehow, some way, if he'd once had a foster brother named Estel… and if so, if he knew where Estel was now. Had they grown up together? Was that why Aragorn reminded me so much of Estel – because they'd both been raised by the same great Elven lord? Could it be…?

But anyway, Aragorn hadn't been able to understand me, and it had only made me more eager to find some way to change myself back so that I'd be able to talk again. It would be one of the first things I asked him, when I got my voice back…. If I ever did. Yeah, when it came to this topic I alternated between fierce optimism and flagging hopes… but whatever came, I knew I would take.

I waited for Aragorn by the black stones that marked the beginning of the road to the Dimholt. It wasn't long before he came with Brego, looking weary but resigned, and behind him Legolas and Gimli followed. A grin broke my face – there, I'd known that no matter how hard he tried to leave without them, they would follow him anyway, and he would let them. I still wished I was going too… but one glance beyond them to the tent where I knew Merry still slept, and I knew that I would stay. So I said goodbye, nuzzle-licking all three of my friends, smiling at them through the sorrow.

After all, I firmly believed that I would see them again. I had to. I only hoped it was in time to save the city of Gondor, and the men who were fighting there.

Aragorn turned briefly on Brego to look at me, but there was no need for him to say anything. We had already made our farewells last night, with the light of Friendship and Love bright in the air between us. Gimli, too, mumbled a gruff goodbye, but what the Dwarf did not speak aloud he told me with his eyes. And Legolas… he hugged me before he left, bidding me to be safe as he mounted Arod in front of Gimli. "We will meet again," he promised softly, and turned his horse to leave.

Of that, I had no doubts. Waving my tail in farewell (I'd wave my paw but I'd look silly), I watched rather sadly as they vanished into the mists. Around me, I could hear the Rohirrim starting to gather around, wondering aloud why the three were leaving now, on the eve of battle.

"He leaves because there is no hope," Gamling whispered brokenly, and a wave of fear broke through the men who had come to watch their heroes leaving, unable to understand why. I wished I could tell them that it wasn't true, that Aragorn left to _find_ and _bring_ hope. But thankfully I didn't have to, for there was Théoden-King, who had just exited his tent behind us, in time to catch what Gamling said.

"He leaves because he must," the King declared, and all turned at the sound of his strong voice, a beacon of might and inner strength that all the men gazed upon hungrily, starved as they were for something, anything, to hold on to as the Man that they had placed their trust and hope in rode away into the Mountain in what must seem to them a terrible betrayal.

"Too few have come," Gamling said, soft, fearful and worried. "We cannot defeat the armies of Mordor." And all with their failing hopes turned to the Man who led them, needing him to reassure and restore their faith. The King paused, but in the end Théoden did not lie to his people; his men, friends and subjects who deserved so much more.

"No, we cannot," he agreed with Gamling, and around him, faces fell. But the King straightened again and there was no fear in his voice as he stated with full conviction and pride: _"But we will meet them in battle nonetheless."_

And with nothing more to say in the face of such courage and reckless devotion to those in Gondor who needed them, of loyalty to the Oath sworn by Eorl long ago, the men all nodded and turned away. Hopes waned on this gray morn as the Hopebringer left with his faithful companions, and I saw with sudden clarity the weapon of the Enemy known as Despair. Lips curling in a defiant snarl, I trotted towards Merry's tent, more determined than ever to keep fighting and bring Sauron's reign to an end.

'_It will not be our end, but his,'_ I growled my vow to the wind, and I didn't give a toss if the wind carried my challenge all the way to the one who dwelt in Mordor and told him of it… let him come! I was the Stonebearer, I was of the Light and he was Darkness - and I would not let him win…

For the love of my friends and all that was still bright and good in Arda… I would not let him win. And once I had the final Stone, I would figure out what I had to do to stop him, and then I'd do whatever it took to bring him down.

_Whatever it took…_

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"_I learned the real meaning of love. Love is absolute loyalty. People fade, looks fade, but loyalty never fades. You can depend so much on certain people, you can set your watch by them. And that's love, even if it doesn't seem very exciting."_

_- Sylvester Stallone _

"_Love is all we have, the only way that each can help the other." _

_- Euripides, Orestes, 408 BC_

_"Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage." _

_- Lao Tzu_

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RK9.


	39. The Other Side of Reliability

**Disclaimer: **(insert witty disclaimer here)

**Author's notes:** I'm a little confused now - I thought I'd already put up chapter 11, but apparently I _haven't_, so here it is then. Gee, and no one noticed - so maybe I shouldn't have said anything. LOL. Thanks to FairOphelia, as always, for the terrific beta job!

Forgive me if I don't respond to any reviews this time. I'm not very well, and can only spare a few minutes from filling out applications (let's say that I could practically prepare an application slip for any university right now, ugh). Anyway. Thanks to all who have reviewed! (gives out virtual thank you hugs)

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"_Look. (Grown-ups skip this paragraph.) I'm not about to tell you this book has a tragic ending, I already said in the very first line how it was my favorite in all the world. But there's a lot of bad stuff coming."_

_-__ The Princess Bride, William Goldman_

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**Chapter 11**

I truly meant to go and wait for Merry to awaken in the hobbit's little tent, but was intercepted in a strange way en route. An unknown force grabbed hold of and turned my paws, and at first I was inclined to be frightened, not knowing who or what was directing my body towards the cliffs, the part near Éowyn's tent that faced a still darkened sky. Brief flashes of that terrifying sight from my dreams, of falling towards a mass of surging dark water, flitted through my mind in quick snatches of thought, and for one brief moment, my entire body went cold.

But then I took a closer look, and saw the flicker of a very slight green glow surrounding me, and relief warmed my blood once again as I realized that it was just the Stone of Sincerity, and that it was leading me away to another place where it felt I was needed.

Of all the Stones, Sincerity was the hardest for me to understand. It was one light all on its own, and yet it could be many things: honesty, empathy, faith, compassion… all born of an open heart. Some would view it as a weakness, rather than a virtue – and yet the green glow that came from it was strong, as strong as the blazing glow of Courage, or the glow of Friendship that protected and strengthened. And in some ways… it _was _Friendship, yes, and Courage and Kindness and Love and everything else all mixed in.

And now it was leading me, dragging me away towards the edge of the plateau.

I scented Éowyn before I saw her, and at that moment the light of Sincerity released me, and I understood its intentions. For the Lady of Rohan stood as still as a statue in front of her tent, arms folded over her chest, her face as pale and beautiful and cold as a winter dawn – with spring a long way off yet. It was blank and emotionless, untouched by warmth – the face of one who had lost all hope… and that was something that I definitely could understand. Of all people, I knew how easily hope could be lost, how it could slip from your grasp like a slippery fish through one's fingers…

I didn't need the Stones to tell me to go to her, to comfort her in this her hour of need. I had not forgotten her kindness to me either, from what seemed an age ago in Edoras, when both our hearts had been lighter and our lives had been easier, and we had not been standing on the brink of war and death. I had sworn then that I would repay her in kind. Now I could. With the light of Sincerity burning around me in an aura of soft emerald flames, I started towards her… but Hwas interrupted before I'd finished taking even a step forward. The sound of approaching footsteps alerted me to the arrival of the King, and I jerked backwards at once, slipping unnoticed behind the shelter of some nearby bushes. I could tell from the look on Théoden's face that it would not be prudent for me to join them – not yet. This was a time for the King and his niece alone – but still I hesitated to leave, eavesdropping rather guiltily from my hiding place nearby.

"There you are," he said, moving to stand before his motionless niece. She might have been one of the Púkel-men for all the response she gave to him, her uncle, her King. Théoden seemed not to have noticed yet, slowly turning to face her, regarding her gravely as he informed her: "I have left instruction. The people are to follow your rule in my stead. Take up my seat in the Golden Hall. Long may you defend Edoras if the battle goes ill."

Éowyn's breath came out in a soft, quickly dissipating cloud as she gazed at her uncle. Her eyes frightened me – frozen over and completely devoid of emotion, they were like two icy pools in her face. She did not reply immediately, but just when I though she had not even heard her uncle's words, she spoke, the emptiness in her eyes matching that of her voice. "What other duty would you have me do, my lord?" she asked, dully.

Théoden-King paused, and now I saw the moment when he realized that all was not right with his niece.

"Duty?" he repeated, as though the word left a bad taste on his tongue. "No." He reached out and grasped his niece's hands, holding them and bringing them close to his heart. Though his expression and tone did not change, there was a spark of worry and caring in his eyes as he whispered: "I would have you smile again, and not grieve for those whose time has come. You shall live to see these days renewed, and no more despair."

The young woman trembled, and I saw tears glistening in her eyes even as she tried to smile as her uncle had requested of her. But the action was beyond her, and I backed away further as she and her uncle leaned closer to each other and rested their foreheads together, drawing on each other's strength, surrounded by an aura of brilliant red that I was sure that only I could see…

It was clear that Éowyn did not need me right now. Dipping my head respectfully to the King and his niece – never mind that they could not see me – I turned to leave.

I would just have to repay my debt some other time.

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It did not take a genius to figure out that it was Aragorn's leaving that had triggered this state of emotion and internal suffering within the Lady Éowyn. However, it did take another woman to recognize the pain behind the walls of ice, the hidden turmoil and deep sorrow that came from a broken heart. I saw it, and I guessed that Aragorn must have told her that her love for him would never be returned in the way she longed for, that in him she loved nothing but an image and an idea, and the hope of valor and great deeds in a field other than those she walked as the Lady of Rohan. Perhaps he had even told her that he loved another – I did not know. But it explained why she felt that she had nothing to live for right now.

Still, she had a great heart and the strength of spirit to match, and no doubt her heart was already beginning to heal, even if she still felt the pain. My mother had always said that time was the greatest healer when it came to wounds of the soul. And though it might not seem so now, now when the hurt was so near and so real, but she would thank Aragorn later. He had not led her on, had not played with her heart and emotions, and had not given more love and care to her than was right for him to give while his heart belonged to another – something a lesser man would have done. But not him. And Éowyn would see that later, and know that he had acted to preserve her feelings and dignity, rather than treat her as a lady less in stature and rank than she was.

But for now, there would undoubtedly be pain. But it did not matter, so long as it was pain that would pass, like the chill of winter into a joyful spring.

At the end of the day, though, this was all really none of my business, wasn't it? Shaking my head mentally as I chided myself for thinking so deeply about affairs that weren't mine to think about, I continued on my way to Merry's tent. My ears pricked as I heard the sound of men's voices, loud and worried, carried over on the gentle morning breeze. Normally, having just decided to stay out of the business of others, I would not be listening to such chatter at all, but the name Aragorn caught my attention and all well-intended thoughts I might have been nursing kind of flew out the window. Especially since the words said about him were not at all pleasant commentary – but that only broke any and all desire I might have had to leave the speakers alone, as a slow, helpless and sad kind of anger began to build within my heart.

"The Lord Aragorn abandoned us," one of the men was saying, a thin fellow who sat cross-legged by a small tent. "If he had stayed, we might have won. Now… even the King thinks that we ride to our own deaths."

"He's a coward." A tall, burly Rohirrim made the statement flatly from a stool nearby, glaring at the ground and waving a mug in one hand as he made his point. There were some protests, and he nearly spilled some frothy amber liquid as he shook his hand and drinking vessel again defiantly, insisting: "What else could it be? He smelled the aroma of death coming towards us from the fields where we'll be riding tomorrow, and rather than face it with us he's left to save his own skin, I'll wager. Can't trust these northerners, I say. Look how this one's split at the first sign that he might not live to finish the fight. Let them go, I say, where they belong, into the dark places, and never return. The times are evil enough."

The others broke out again in a confusing babble of replies – some in agreement, some not so sure. Due to the nature of Aragorn's leaving, none of the men had any idea why he'd gone, especially now, when he was so needed. But some remembered still all that he had done for Rohan, and what they'd seen and learned of him while he'd lived among them in Edoras, while others remembered what a noble, mighty warrior and courageous leader of men he had been in Helm's Deep, where even the hope of their King had almost failed. What he had done did not jive with their memory of his past deeds and the knowledge of his selfless nature and greatness, and the men were not sure what to think – but not completely willing to mark it all down to cowardice, either.

"His Majesty does not seem to know why the Lord Aragorn left either," volunteered another man, a quiet one who held no drinking mug, but was polishing his sword and sharpening its edges. "But he has not marked it down as cowardice or abandonment, Bron. Perhaps we should just wait and see if Lord Aragorn returns by the morrow, when we ride again."

Bron, the burly blond from whom the smell of inebriation was strongest, blustered a little, but fell silent, either unable or unwilling to speak against his King. For all his faults, it was clear that he looked up to Théoden and was willing to do anything for his beloved monarch. If Théoden said that a man that Bron saw as a coward was not one, when all he thought he could see in the man's actions was a lack of courage… well, apparently Bron was willing to rethink his stand on things.

I was angry with them all, at first, but now that anger started to fade into a quiet helplessness as I continued to listen to their talk. I could not blame the men, not even Bron. If I had been in their place, perhaps I would now be wondering the same thing, even knowing Aragorn and his great heart as well as I did. Perhaps even I would be doubting his motives, and asking what now drove him on a dangerous road that was probably held Death as much as the fields of Gondor did – and even its name said as much: The Paths of the Dead. And even though Aragorn had explained it all to me, there was still no certainty – he rode to seek aid for both Gondor and Rohan, allies in the fight against the Dark Lord's terrible army, but there was no guarantee he would find it, or live to return with whatever and whoever he found. Even if he did, we had no guarantee that we would defeat Sauron, or his servants and foot soldiers, dark creatures bred for the sole purpose of doing their Master's will.

No, that was where things like courage and faith and hope came in. But for these men, who had already seen and been through so much in recent days, these strengths were fast fading away, and I was not sure if anyone could help the men to find them again.

Sighing softly, I turned away, only to be held back by a call of my name from another direction, but still nearby.

"Lady!"

Friend-scent, a heady mingling of night-time and horses, filled my nostrils and assured me that I had nothing to fear, and I allowed my bristling fur to flatten once again. Glancing around, I spotted the young man, and a smile leapt to my face almost at once as I recognized him – Keldric, son of Cerdic, whom I had met in Edoras not too long ago. Had it really been so short a time? It felt like forever, and I was glad to look upon him now – I'd been wondering how he and his mother were faring now. His call drew the attention of the men, but we were able to ignore them as we greeted each other. Keldric's eyes were shining – he seemed just as excited to see me again as I was to see him.

"I've been trying to find you, Lady, ever since Master Redwulf pronounced my mother safe and well over the greencough," the young Rohirrim told me, catching me as I leapt up to place my paws on his shoulders in a friendly greeting. "She is resting at home in Edoras now, and I wanted… to thank you, for your part in saving her life. Master Redwulf said if Lord Aragorn hadn't brought her in, she wouldn't have made it. And my mother – she's all I have, after my father and sister died. So, uh, thank you." He hesitated, then asked with a hint of concern: "They said you were sick, Lady?"

I dropped onto all fours again and nodded, then grinned a wolf smile to tell him I was all right now. The young man seemed to understand, and nodded seriously in response.

"I'm glad you're all right then." Slightly embarrassed, he trailed off into an awkward hesitation, eyes running over me as he searched for something to say. It became apparent that he had something on his mind. I waited, and finally he came out with it.

"I wanted to ask about the Lord Aragorn," he admitted.

_Him and half the camp…_ I nodded, my expression turning into one of resigned acceptance as I realized that it was normal for him to want to talk about this, after all Aragorn's leaving affected him too. He looked mildly uncomfortable, glancing back towards the other men, who were by now talking amongst themselves and at least pretending to ignore us – I didn't think their hearing was as good as my wolf hearing though. They were probably just wondering what this young man would have to say to a wolf, that strange creature who was called a guest of the King, the companion of the Lord Aragorn and his friends about whom little was known outside of the circle of the Fellowship and the royal family.

"The whole camp seems to think he's run out on us, left us to our death, Lady," Keldric told me, his young face troubled, though by now it was nothing I did not already know. "But the King said that he left because he had to, that we might see him again yet should he survive his road. My friends – they call him and the others 'elvish wights', and say that those that come from the north are strange, not just in appearance, but in ways. They are inclined to give him up for dead, and mourn the loss of someone who might have led us to victory against the dark power who is the Enemy of all free people. I just… I am not so sure. I have met him, after all, when he came and saved my mother, and I…"

My eyebrow shot up, and he finished hastily, "I just wanted to say - I believe in him, Lady. And that no one - save perhaps the King and Lord Éomer - could be a man of more nobility and honor, not cowardice like everyone else says. And I guess if we ride to our deaths tomorrow, then so be it, for I think some of the men have forgotten that we do not need the Lord Aragorn to lead us, for our King can do that just as well – to death and glory and whatever end. And on our own, even without the one who led us to victory at the Hornburg, we have strength in ourselves aplenty. We seem to have forgotten that, and no matter what everyone says about him being a coward and such, I think it's because we're all just afraid of what is to come and worried because one we all love and had learned to respect seems to have ridden off to his own death first…"

Again, he trailed off uncertainly, and though his thoughts were rather messy and half-formed, certainly not thought through or arranged properly, they still were _right_, mature thoughts that summed up the situation and brought a feeling of genuine wonder: that this simple young soldier of Rohan could think and see such things, and be mature enough to see what his older brothers-in-arms could not, because they could not get past their anger, bitterness, confusion and sorrow over a man whose motives they could not understand. They did not have faith in my friend, had lost it when the one who had brought them hope and led them this far seemed to have abandoned them on the brink of war…

I titled to head to one side then, startled as Keldric seemed to be enveloped suddenly in a gentle white glow that I recognized all too well. An almost forgotten symbol of a cross with flashes seemed to shine from his heart, and I smiled, remembering when I had last seen it, what felt like a lifetime ago, and thinking dearly of the one now bore that Stone, and the one who had born it previously. So, it did not need to be present in order for its light to shine? Or was it that the light of Reliability – which was, coincidentally, also called the light of Faith – was naturally present in this young man anyway? Keldric did not seem to notice or see it, but I did, it shone like one of the Beacons of Amon Dîn and calmed my unsettled emotions, giving me peace and hope once again and clearing my mind. As long as there were those like Keldric, standing in the background with an abundance of quiet faith, the future was bright, with men like these to light the way. And it inspired me to keep my own light bright, no matter what the virtue might be, to keep the darkness of doubt and fear of the unknown future away.

And then I realized that what Keldric could not see, his friends could. Bron and the others were gaping over at us both, some staring from Keldric to their ale mugs and back again, unable to believe what they were seeing. I grinned at the mildly amusing sight, but we neither of us stopped to offer any explanation – the young man had no idea why his friends were getting so excited, and I couldn't – and wouldn't – tell him. Maybe he would guide them with his light as we rode off to war, but for now, he merely followed me as I led him away, his personal aura of light shining around him like an angelic mantle of purest, dependable white.

And maybe this time, with no more distractions, I'd actually make it to Merry's tent.

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"_Faith is the bird that feels the light when the dawn is still dark." _

_- Rabindranath Tagore_

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Merry, Keldric and I spent the rest of the day and night together outside my hobbit friend's tent in the end. No one sent for us, no one bothered us – even the King seemed too busy inside his own tent with Éomer and his men to require Merry's services, though people did drop by to summon Keldric for little jobs that needed doing – he wasn't high in rank in the Rohan army because he was still young, and so was often made a "go-fer", one who ran around doing the little jobs for the more experienced soldiers, fetching and carrying weapons, belongings, helping out with small odd jobs, and delivering messages to and fro. But he came back again once the work was done, eager to talk to Merry, who was, though a little subdued, still a friendly personality and brilliant conversationalist. They both discussed Aragorn's leaving – Merry had learned of it before we reached him in his tent through the murmurs of the camp – but the hobbit too, had faith in the man he called "Strider".

"The Paths of the Dead," he'd mused. "The Paths of the Dead? What does this mean? They have all left me now. They have all gone to some doom: Gandalf and Pippin to war in the East; and Sam and Frodo to Mordor and Strider and Legolas and Gimli to the Paths of the Dead. But my turn will come soon enough, I suppose. I wonder what they are all talking about, and what the the king means to do. For I must go where he goes now."

Keldric had not been with us then – Merry hadn't wanted the young man to see how disheartened he initially was. Then, looking at me, he'd straightened, and added, "But I know Strider, Lady. I imagine he has his reasons, even if it's all very strange and confusing to me… we may see them all again yet. If not, well, I hope I shall get to do my part in this whole war… and I'm glad you're here with me."

I felt a flash of guilt, since I hadn't originally wanted to stay. But if I could keep Merry from feeling so alone – it was good that I had. The feeling had faded a little as Keldric had joined us, and I was interested to see that his aura was now gone, and the only thing that emanated from him was a strong smell of sweat and the warmth of exertion from running around the camp. He joined us in conversation, but it was a little later that something happened to wake me up from this lazy, content lethargy that I was currently enjoying.

Keldric, who had been helping me to brush the tangles out of my fur as we lounged around with nothing to do, caught my attention by fingering my collar, the gift of the Lady Galadriel from Lorien. I jerked a little, unused to anyone touching it so closely and worried that he would activate the Stones or something, but he was merely interested in the collar itself, and dropped it after a moment of studying it, so I relaxed.

Then the brush paused suddenly in the middle of my back, and I let out a yelp of surprise as the bristles caught on some knotted fur – but Keldric had moved his hand to my collar once again, his expression rather pale as he fingered the Stone of Sincerity, which caught on his fingers with a gentle green flicker, but did not shine any further, perhaps knowing that such an act would only raise questions from the young man that we would not be able to answer. Keldric's jaw dropped, and I frowned, looking up at him curiously, uncomfortable with him touching my collar, and uncertain as to what he was thinking. Merry paused as well, watching us both, before finally asking carefully:

"Is something wrong, Keldric lad?"

Because despite his less-than-tall stature, Merry was still far older than the young Rohirrim.

Keldric swallowed and replied, "No, Master Merry. But this – my sister had a Stone just like this, you see. She wore it wherever she went, and never let it out of her sight. My father said it was a family heirloom, passed down from generation to generation, and that Kelda – my sister – had proved deserving of it. He gave me his sword, when I was her age, but I always envied her that she had this beautiful Stone that she wore everywhere and loved so much – how strange. This one looks _exactly_ like it. But it was buried with her, long ago…"

Merry and I exchanged glances, but we said nothing. Both of us, I knew, were remembering how the little ghost-girl had come to us to the healing wing of Meduseld, and how she had given to me the Seventh Stone and saved me from a slow, painful death. I'd been drifting away – the Stone of Sincerity had illuminated the darkness within me that prevented me from seeing the true problem and thus helped me regain my hope in life. Unfortunately, we could not tell Keldric that – he'd likely think that we were insane. And before that, Kelda had appeared to me in Meduseld as her people celebrated the victory at Helm's Deep, and led me to save her mother's life – so although Keldric had attributed Selune's new lease on life to me, it was his own sister he had to thank… his long-dead sister, who had passed on long ago when they were children in Edoras.

I still wish I knew exactly when my life had become so complicated. But perhaps I would talk with Keldric when this was all over, and tell him that at least I knew his sister was finally at peace…

The young man eventually, perhaps reluctantly, let go of the Stone and sighed. "Anyway, this is beautiful leatherwork," he noted now, fingers moving down to stroke against the smooth material.

"And these gemstones – I've never seen their like. They seem to glow from the inside, from the very core of each – and I don't think I've seen any of them before. Is that red one a ruby? Oh, did Prince Legolas have this made for you? I'd swear this was of Elven-make."

I shook my head, not exactly sure how to answer. The collar was of Elven-make, yes, but the Stones were not… and Legolas did not have it made for me! I shook myself a little, narrowing my eyes at Keldric as I thought about what he seemed to be implying.

And I did not think the Stone of Love was even related to the ruby family, no – like the rest of the Stones, it was no common jewel, far beyond any of the ones known to Man, or any other culture, for that matter.

Knowledge tickled my mind, but did not yet begin to whisper, and anyway, Keldric's question had reminded me of something that I had almost forgotten until now.

'_Nine Stones, but only eight you have now, Stonebearer,'_ the now-familiar voice murmured into my mind. _'The final Stone was hidden away long ago, for safekeeping, for out of all the Stones this is the most important one. The power to find it lies within you – awaken the Stonebearer, and find the last Stone. And do it soon, for it is soon that it will be needed in war…'_

Sighing, I gave the Stone a mental nod. The final Stone – yes, I knew. And I would find it, as soon as ever I could. But not now, for we had time still, I somehow knew. And tomorrow would be busy, for it was tomorrow that we rode to war... _I will know what to do, when the time is right, wisdom-light. My faith shall be strong, and when the time comes, it will lead me to the ninth Stone – all I have to do is believe. _

And Knowledge purred, caressing my mind with a gentle approval and sign of support as it settled down to sleep within me, satisfied with my answer, and content for now to believe in me.

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Press the review button. You know you want to. :)

RK9.


	40. The Breaking of the Storm

**Author's note:** Yes, that was a longer hiatus than I'd planned - I'm so sorry. I did start a new Criminal Minds fic... but I'm still working on this one! I said I would. ^.^ Thanks to all who reviewed - and now, very importantly: **If you came to this page via an update alert in your inbox, please know that the author's note in the previous chapter has been replaced with chapter 11, so read that first before reading this one.** The next chapter will be up as soon as possible, though I'm going on holiday this weekend to Singapore - it's my little cousin's 7th birthday. :)

Thanks again to all who have reviewed, and to all who are still faithfully sticking to this fic. I love you all - this chappie is dedicated to everyone who loves this fic, you know who you are. ^.^ Happy Easter to those who celebrate it!

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**Chapter 12**

Morning came, and with it came gloomy weather and a darkness that rose steadily from the mouth of Mordor. Merry and I awakened to a lightless dawn, a darkling sky, and air that stifled and was almost impossible to breathe. I looked for the sun but could not find it, and to add to my sorrow, when mid-morning came, so did disappointment for my hobbit friend – for the King informed us that he did not want either of us to go to war on the Pelennor Fields, but to stay here in safety with the Lady Éowyn.

"All my friends have gone to battle," Merry protested, after being told that little hobbits did not belong in war. The King wasn't patronizing him, nor criticizing or looking down on him, but still, it rankled, and Merry's face bore the expression of a disappointed young child who had just been told that they would not be celebrating his birthday this year. Théoden seemed to understand, but he set his face in a firm expression, saying sternly but not unkindly:

"It is a three-day gallop to Minas Tirith, and none of my riders can bear you as a burden." He followed Merry's gaze to valiant little Stybba, whom Merry had been tacking up halfway, but there was no need to say more on that score – it was a valid point. The hill pony, no matter how stout of heart, would never be able to make it all the way to Gondor. Still, Merry tried once more.

"I _want_ to fight," he insisted, standing as tall as his hobbit body would allow, comical yet determined in the helmet and armor that the Lady Éowyn had given to him the night before.

"I will say no more." Théoden turned away, glancing at me as he did so, and I detected that the King was asking me to try and help Merry understand. I hesitated – how could I, when I myself was rebelling against being asked to stay behind? But I did understand – Théoden was just trying to prevent more needless death on his watch, for a little one of great heart whom he cared about, and whom he had promised Aragorn he would protect and keep safe, for at least a little while, while the Ranger was away walking a doomed path that he might not even return from. This was his way of keeping his word… while he served his duty to his people and to his ancestors, and to his brothers and friends in Gondor, Merry and Éowyn would at least be safe here, away from war and death… and myself as well. I looked at the King suddenly, wonder catching in my throat and eyes. Was it because Théoden cared for me as well, that he did not want me to go with him and the Rohirrim? I'd wondered if it was because he knew I wasn't truly a wolf, but a lady in wolf form, or if perhaps he'd received me for safe-keeping, the way he'd done for Merry. Now I wondered… did the King care for me as a friend too? I wasn't his esquire, I wasn't as easy to like as Merry – and the few times I had come into contact with Théoden, I had been wearing the form of a creature of darkness, and almost attacked his niece. Beyond that, we hadn't truly interacted – though in his name I had been kept safe at Meduseld, and later here at Dunharrow as well.

Théoden turned Snowmane, and I thought I detected the briefest flicker of emotion in his eyes before it disappeared and he rode away, and the horsemen followed him, line after line of men who would go to death and beyond if Théoden asked them to. Thoughtful and uncertain, I glanced at Merry as the King rode off, and was instantly sad along with him as I saw the disheartenment that the hobbit was radiating. But the Stones were reacting, flickering and blinking, and before I could say or do anything, a rider came barreling towards us from out of nowhere on a strangely familiar horse, and I let out a shocked half-cry as Merry was caught up by the back of his leather jerkin and settled on the horse, in front of the rider. The hobbit was as startled as I was, and his instinct was to struggle, but then a soft voice trickled from the helmed head and we both froze, stunned into silence.

"Where will wants not, a way opens, so we say. And so I have found myself," the rider whispered into Merry's ears. "You wish to go where the King of the Mark goes: I see it in your face."

"I do," Merry whispered back, clear to my wolf ears, though perhaps not to the other Rohirrim who were already moving out.

"Then you shall go with me. I will bear you before me, under my cloak until we are far afield, and this darkness is yet darker. Such good will should not be denied. Say no more to any man, but come!"

Merry's face broke into a smile, and at the same time, I caught of whiff of friend-scent that made me smile in turn. We'd both finally recognized her. "My lady," Merry whispered, with gratitude and reverence, and he made himself comfortable on the saddle before her. I gave a yelping bark of joy, a sound few true wolves would ever utter in the presence of Men, and loped easily after the horse I now knew to be Windfola, and the Rohirrim whom I now knew to be none other than the White Lady of Rohan. Beneath her helmet, which covered her hair and part of her face, Éowyn smiled, and to me as much as Merry, she commanded softly:

"Not a lady, but a soldier of Rohan, Merry. For now, call me Dernhelm."

And so our paths were set. To Gondor, and to war, while above us the sun lay hidden behind the gathering darkness, and all around us were horsemen and horses, and the road to death, glory… and the fulfillment of age-old honor.

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We rode fast and hard for three long days, and it wasn't at all an easy task for me. I struggled to keep up with the horses, not quite as fully recovered as I had assumed I would be by now, and besides all that, I found myself further weighed down by the presence of the dark storm clouds that had risen from Mordor, blocking the light for two of those three days and even now as we rode on into the ending of the third, after a brief rest in the pine woods around the edge of the Drúadan Forest, at the foot of the Eilenach Beacon. This darkness… it was just not natural, and both men and horses of Rohan were unsettled, deep to their core, and really it was only their love for their King and their deep-seated sense of honor and loyalty to their oaths and their brothers in Gondor that kept them riding on, into a deep darkness that none of us liked, and me more than most. It was different somehow, for me. For the men, and even Merry and Éowyn, it was just darkness, and that they could handle, for they expected the sky to clear soon, or if not, someday. They awaited the coming of the light with patience, and simply endured. But for _me…_

It wasn't that I had no patience, or that I was afraid of the darkness, because I wasn't. But somehow the Storm of Mordor, as the men had dubbed it, weighed me down, as though caught under a net set by a hunter in his trap, and it made me feel choked and restrained. It's difficult to explain, but every move I made now took so much more effort to execute beneath the glaze of the darkened sky, and I hurt inside, because somehow, I could sense the struggling sun behind the clouds, could smell the stars and moon that were fighting hard against the shadowy wall that was blocking their light from reaching us below them on the earth. They couldn't get through, and I ached for even a glimpse or a flicker of their glow, but couldn't see them, no. And for as long as the light was blocked from me, I was slowly suffocating, and it was as though someone was holding me by the throat and squeezing. I couldn't breathe, not with the Storm and the clouds and the sensation of the Shadow's presence all around. This strengthened the wolf, who reveled in the feel of her Master all around us, nearby, but only gave me more work to do as I fought to keep her trapped, held back.

It was like losing my hope all over again, but this time, being stuck with the pain and no merciful death in sight.

My only comfort during this time came from two things – Merry and my dreams. The hobbit inspired me, helped me to push onward, reminded me of my promise to Aragorn to take care of him and remain by his side. Merry's motivations for wanting to fight were simple, practical, and incredibly humbling. He wasn't doing this out of stubbornness, or a need for glory, or to make a name for himself on the field of war. No. The hobbit remembered, even now, our friends Frodo and Sam, and Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli, and Gandalf and Pippin waiting for us in Gondor. All were far from us, all doing their own part, their own efforts to help defeat our common Enemy. And Merry just wanted to do his part too, to help his friends and not be left behind, safe but useless in the grand scheme of things. The light of his Courage and determination inspired me, and helped me understand what it meant to push myself on to my limits, and beyond, if I could.

And the other? My dreams; for when I entered that world I saw plenty of light. I ran across the night sky, a dark blue expanse filled with billions of twinkling stars and a full hunter's moon that made me want to sing the song that wolves had been singing since the beginning of time. The darkness could not trap me here, and I breathed easily and laughed beneath the warm glow of the sun as night gave way to day. Yes, there was light in my dreams, light and goodness and beauty and everything that the Shadow hated, and no one, _no one_, could take it away. Not here, for here even the Enemy had no control.

But eventually, I did have to awaken, and then the trapped feelings and the claustrophobia would start all over again. But as long as I had my dreams, I could bear it, for a while.

And what of the Stones? Oh yes, they helped too, the source from which I drew all possible reserves of strength when my physical strength failed. Still, I refused to turn back, no matter how worried Merry was about me, no matter how much my hobbit friend tried to get me to go home to Dunharrow or Edoras and leave him alone. I'd made a promise, and like the men of Rohan, I intended to keep it.

Even if it killed me.

Besides, it was far too late to turn back now.

I raced the wind with Windfola, whose long strides flowed gracefully and smoothly, with no indication that she even felt the weight of Éowyn and Merry on her back. We rode in Elfhelm's _éored_, and while Éowyn and he did not speak much to each other, there seemed to be an understanding between the marshal and our friend, who was careful to wear her long hair tucked into helmet or the back of her jerkin, riding with the grim expression of one who goes seeking death. Merry hung on in front of her, silent and thoughtful, eyes always on the road ahead, and the city that drew nearer with each passing hour. The horns sounded with each mile we claimed, closing the distance between us and Sauron's terrible army.

No more need now to dread the waiting, no more need to fear uncertain war. We were here, on the brink. War had come.

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Théoden called for us to a halt at the top of the small hill that overlooked the Pelennor Fields, and for a moment, the entire muster of Rohan stood in silence, looking down. The city was in flames, completely destroyed in some parts, and the army of Mordor was surging, a black stain on the land that moved and rippled, much like the Uruk-Hai at Helm's Deep. And once again I found myself standing on the edge of war. But this time, I did not feel the need to howl, to sing in wolfsong. No. The King was motioning for the horns, and the clear call rang out, just as inspiring and hope-filling as my howl had been on that day. Once, then twice, and I felt a ripple in the sky above us. The darkness above did not abate, but for a moment, I felt that the sun had almost broken through, and the suffocating feeling in my soul eased, just a little, enough to give me the strength to raise my head, panting, to study the land below. The air was thick and sour with the aroma of fear and anxiety, and beside me, I felt Éowyn tense, and Merry sit up straighter.

"Courage, Merry. And to you as well, Lady," Éowyn whispered, her voice barely loud enough even for my wolf ears to catch. "Courage for our friends."

I nodded, bracing myself, widening my stance and holding head and tail as high as I had energy to lift them. Below us, orc drums were sounding in defiant response. These orcs had that dark storm of their Master's making, and so had no need to fear the sun. And besides, they still outnumbered us. Éowyn was right. We would all need Courage.

And that, I had in spades.

I should have expected it – now, at my moment of true need, warmth finally flickered and flowed in a gentle river from the Stone of Courage at my neck, a surging tide of pure Courage that bathed me in its glow, and slowly, I felt myself being reenergized. Not strengthened or completely refreshed, but reenergized just enough for me to face the battle with a new point of view. Fear left me, and the sky was bright again, for the orange glow that covered my eyes prevented me from seeing the darkness of the clouds above me. I felt my friends' startled eyes on me, but it wasn't important. I was ready.

"Éomer, take your _éored _down the left flank," the King was calling. "Gamling, follow the King's banner down the center. Grimbold, take your company right after you pass the wall. Forth! And fear no darkness!"

Théoden began to ride, as the ranks of the enemy began to assemble against us, with pikes in front and archers just behind. I growled – it was a good tactic, for we would come at them downhill and on horseback, straight into the line of sharp barbs and points, and then the archers could cut down whoever passed the first wall. And only then, whoever was left would begin the real fighting. How clever, how cruel. And what inner strength it would take for these riders and their beloved mounts, to ride straight down, knowing that if the rider missed the spikes, the horses most likely would not. But they would ride nonetheless, and I with them.

Having surveyed the lay of the land, Théoden came riding back. Sword raised, he rode down the line one more time, touching each Rohirrim's spear. It seemed to be a sort of blessing, a tradition or ritual that comforted the men, and reminded them why they were here. In other circumstances, I might be more interested in learning about it, but now…

"Arise, Riders of Théoden!" called the King, and Éowyn gasped slightly and ducked as her uncle rode past us, not wanting to be recognized, not now, when she was so close to battle – though I did not suppose Théoden could stop her now, on the brink of war as we were. "Spears shall be shaken, shields shall be splintered! A sword-day, a red day! Ere the sun rises!"

"Whatever happens," Éowyn whispered, ducking her head to address us both, "Stay with me. I'll look after you both."

I nuzzled her legs, the nearest part of her that I could reach. I couldn't tell her, but though I agreed that staying near her was a good idea, it wouldn't be so that she could look after me, but so I could look after her and Merry. Either way, Merry's safety would be covered, and I'd make sure Éowyn's was too.

"Ride now!" Théoden brought his horse to a stop at the front of the line. "Ride now! Ride for ruin and the world's ending!"And then, to my utter shock, he raised his sword high and cried, "Death!"

And the Rohirrim echoed his call: "Death!"

"Death!"

Death? No, _life!_

"Forth, Eorlingas!"

And as one mighty force, a wave in the blood-red sea of battle, we surged forward in unity and brotherhood and charged straight towards the quivering wall of sharp black steel points.

They rode for Death, but I, with my Light, ran for Life – to be specific, for the lives and freedom of myself and my friends, and all of Middle-earth who depended on our victory. I'd promised, you see.

Sauron was _not_ going to win.

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Please review? *gives big, sad Bambi eyes* Feed the author?

RK9


	41. Battle Begins

**Disclaimer:** See earlier chapters, k?

**Author's notes: **(is humbled and honored and in shock)

39 reviews for the last chapter... not counting those review made for other chapters as well since my last update.... that's like, wow. Thanks so much, everyone - it's really amazing because this fic has never gone beyond 30 reviews per chapter before. the highest we hit previously was... 27? So for me, that's a huge jump - thanks to all of you!!

I was going to wait until we hit 40 before I updated, but no, that's mean. ^.^ So here's chapter 13... and wow, tons of people hated the cliffhanger last week, didn't they? I'm so sorry...

**Review responses: **

**Uldaren Bardaniel** - Yes, I do read Warriors. ^.^ It's interesting that you caught the herbs but not the 'mice feels you, rabbit hears you' part... I also role play Warriors, and it's fun, but I think I've moved on from that series since I can't keep up with all the new series.... and yes, that "miles to go before we sleep" is from the famous Robert Frost poem - I'm a former English literature student, you'll have to pardon me. :)

**Liliesshadow** - That is the question of the year, isn't it? ^.^ Lol. You'll have to keep reading, dear, to find out if I turn her back...

**JediMasterMiraxHorn** - Well, I do understand why Theoden yelled Death... but I figured that Lady wouldn't agree, even if the rest of the Rohirrim did. It's not her... so yeah. :) Glad you liked it, I wasn't sure how people would take that part...

**Sarii** - hard to stay focused? Can you elaborate? Why?

**Inspired Butterfly - **No, Lady does not yet know that Aragorn and Estel are one and the same... not yet. She'll find out though.

**StormWolf9** - Actually, I think the Rohirrim battlecry is 'death' because at that moment, they all believed that they would be riding off to die fighting on the Pelennor Fields. They had to ride, to help their brothers in Gondor, because of Eorl's promise long ago that Rohan would always come to Gondor's aid. They were sorely outnumbered, even Aragorn seemed to have run away... so they believed they were all going to die, therefore Theoden rode for 'death'. I figured that Lady wouldn't share that idea... Thanks for the review!

As usual, thanks to everyone who reviewed, and I'm only sorry I can't reply to all of you... but thanks, and hope you enjoy!

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**Chapter 13**

"_If a light is slowly dimmed to fifty percent strength and then is instantly turned up to full strength, the person is startled as to the intensity. He had no idea he was missing so much light. Even so with spiritual light. We are often not aware when we are losing it."_

_- from the writings of__ JJ Dewey_

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Battle began. We clashed like the sea on rocks, a fierce and breaking crash of Rider against spear. It was with dismay that I watched some fall, unable to avoid the points, but took hope from the fact that those who fell, rose again, as long as they were still able, and they reentered the fray with renewed vigor and spirit. The orcs wavered; and we seized our chance, breaking through their wall and charging for their archers while they were still wondering why their initial strategy to thin our ranks had not worked. They'd expected us to fall, but somehow, none of them had thought that we would get back up. They would regroup soon, but for now, we had the upper hand.

Far ahead, Théoden-King still led the charge, surrounded by his own group of loyal Riders. Now and again I caught glimpses of his grim face and flashing sword, and heard Snowmane's battle neighs. And around them both, though I could not tell if anyone else saw, was a swirling rainbow of pure light, a mix of colors from all eight Stones that streamed from him like a beacon. I paused in wonder – for without even realizing it, he was lighting the way for his men, who were rallying in the face of his Courage and determination and the glow of the strength that came from inside the King himself, a guiding light in the darkness that had become our world.

Properly inspired, I turned and rejoined the fighting myself. I'd lost Merry and Éowyn somewhere in the initial rush, but in the meantime, I took down as many orcs as I could. It hadn't been all that long ago in Edoras that I'd been reluctant to fight, but now, when it came down to my friends' lives or theirs – suddenly any orc that I did not defeat became a potential killer of a Rohirrim or one of my friends, a possible slayer of any future innocent lives whose path it crossed. It troubled me, this way of thinking, but at the moment, it was all I _could_ think about in the dimness of Mordor's Storm, with battle-lust in my blood and the rage of war all around me.

My saving grace, as always, came from the Stones. Sensing my innate descent into darkness, they burst into light, pure glowing flame, and gave me their version of a slap across the face. Agony swept through me as they raced through my soul to reach me before I fell, and I woke up as though from a deep dream. I hadn't seen how deeply I'd been burrowing into a dangerous mental place – but they had, and they'd brought me back. And their light, like the King's, did not fail, and men and orcs all turned as I slowly sank to my knees on the field, pulsing with light like the radiant moon.

Preparing to renew my attack, but from a new angle.

Instinct guided me now – feral and natural and wild. Slowly looking up, I prepared to share what I could – the light of the Stones, my only strength that I could pass to the men around me.

Taking Hope by the hand, I released it into the sky, a muted but determined shimmer of golden light that beat back the darkness in its path and cleared the way for the orange light of Courage to follow it. With Courage leading the charge, the red light of Love and blue Friendship followed, then purple and lavender and green – Knowledge and Kindness and Sincerity, which acted as shields around the men while the other lights worked to nullify the effects of Mordor's Storm. I might not have the power to drive the Enemy away on my own, but the Stones could at least deflect the ominous cover of darkness for the men who stood in their glow. The lights did not reach the entire battlefield – but oh, the difference they made for those they did touch truly lightened the burden in my heart.

Hope fortified their resolve, Love and Friendship held them up and kept them going, Courage lent them wings to soar. Sincerity and Kindness and Knowledge helped them defeat their enemies, and prevented them from sliding into the same darkness that had very nearly claimed me earlier. And more than that, with the Storm held back, the men's own individual lights were able to break free and shine on their own. That was my goal – to hold back the Storm, and defeat its purpose of drowning all light in darkness and despair. When men forgot their Light – that was when Hope failed. But we had not reached the end of all Hope yet.

It took all of my strength just to keep the Stones in play, but it was worth it. I could feel the restored power in the men around me, and smell the sour fear-scent of the orcs. Some of them tried to attack me, but I found that I had nothing to fear as the men near me formed a circle around my straining body and fended off the attacks. I was protected – and touched by their concern.

Humans. Just when you think you know them, they turn around and surprise you. For all these men knew, I was a wolf with strange powers, whom their King protected as a friend. Most assumed I was a mascot or pet to the Fellowship. But now that they saw I was helping them against the creatures of darkness, on whose side I should be on if I were a true wolf… they knew I truly was friend, not foe. And so they protected me as one of their own.

Why had I worried? The Shadow didn't understand. There were things that Sauron could never destroy, not just by sending clouds to cover the sun. Things like Hope and Light… and the human spirit.

We were _winning_, slowly devastating the orc army.

"Drive them to the river!" I heard Éomer's voice rising, clear above the sounds of battle.

"Make safe the city!" The King's voice joined in, and the men turned to obey.

Exhausted, I struggled now to keep the Stones glowing. It was draining, and travel and recent illness had left me not at full strength. No. The men needed this light. The Storm had not abated – I could not drive it back. But I had to hang on until the battle was over, I had to –

THUMP.

The ground beneath me trembled, and I stared down with bleary, exhausted eyes. What?

THUMP.

Okay, that did not sound good.

THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.

Cries of dismay and fear rose up, and I felt the Light of the Stones start to waver. No! I grabbed onto that tenuous hold, and hung on tightly as I looked up. What was it?

On the far horizon, where earth met sky, huge dark shapes seemed to rise, marching through a cloud of rising dust that was churned up by the earth-quaking stomps of massive feet. Time stood still, as both sides turned to stare – what _were _they? Whatever they were, they were big – huge! – and my first clear glimpse of them had me wishing for a moment that I hadn't restored the light.

It was as though the hills had come alive and started marching across the Pelennor Fields towards us in a hard, unyielding line. Massive bodies covered with tough, leathery skin, ropy tails that swished with calm arrogance, long tusks that reached the ground and could probably skewer a cave troll… these were walking battle-towers. Big ears flapped in the wind like flags, and perched just behind each boulder-like head on their back were towers in which strange dark-skinned men sat, with painted patterns on their skin and malice in their eyes. They laughed at us, enjoyed our fear and their power.

And they did have power. One look at the rippling muscles in the tree trunk-sized legs that marched steadily towards us, and my heart sank. They were just too big, whatever they were. Heck, they wouldn't even need to fight, they could just step on us and we'd be crushed like insects. Like ants, and that was probably all we were to them. The Rohirrim would need all the strength and resourcefulness they had – and I wasn't sure I could help much longer. The light of my Stones was fading, along with my strength – I sagged. I couldn't keep it up. I'd failed them. For a moment, I'd been the Stonebearer – but I no longer had the strength. I'd failed.

And as I dropped panting to the ground, despondent and dejected, something made me look up at Théoden-King. For a moment, I saw the same hesitation on his face that showed on the faces of the men – but then it vanished, and light shone from him as he cried, "Reform the line! Reform the line!"

Disappointed in myself, I was nonetheless relieved as the men turned their steeds to obey. I shook my head as some of the ones who had been protecting me called for me to get up and follow them – I didn't have the strength. But maybe Théoden did, and they needed to follow him now.

"Lady!"

Hoofbeats fought through the ranks to my side, and I saw Keldric baring his teeth at me in a nervous smile, yet fraught with trembling determination. He leapt off and scooped me onto his horse, and it was all I could do to stay in the saddle as he moved to join the rest of his brothers.

"Hang on, Lady," he cried. "Don't give up now! Have faith! We're all going to get through this!"

And that was when the white light of Reliability exploded into my line of sight, pouring from Keldric's words and heart and surrounding us both with its aura. I glommed onto the flow of strength, and recognized that this light came from Keldric himself – again. It reminded me of my promise to Aragorn, and my other promise to this world. It reminded me of my parents, whom I hoped watched over me now, wherever they were.

But most of all, it gave me the strength to stand, right then and there, on horseback, and leap back down, with courage powered more from Faith than from anything else. This was the end of the line. Théoden-King and his men weren't giving up yet. How could I?

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"_Let the storm rage around me  
I will stand, I will fight  
And when the darkness surrounds me  
I will make my own light  
I may not win every battle  
But I'll get stronger with every fear I face  
And I'll be brave."_

_- Jamie O'Neal, Brave_

"_When you come to the end of all the light you know, and it's time to step into the darkness of the unknown, faith is knowing that one of two things shall happen: either you will be given something solid to stand on, or you will be taught to fly."_

_-__ Barbara J. Winter_

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Facing those huge animals and their beast-like riders, I couldn't help but be afraid. I was running solely on the light of Faith, and whatever happened, I knew I couldn't turn back. So when the King called for us to charge, and the horns sounded, I did exactly that – and leapt forward in a near-insane rush towards the huge beasts. The way my paws were flying, you'd think I had wings. I passed the lines of horses and Riders, leaving even Keldric behind. My focus was on the big things, whatever they were, and taking them down.

I don't suppose, in my heart of hearts, that I actually believed for one second that I'd be able to do it. But I suppose that I thought it couldn't hurt to try.

Did I mention this was about as near to insanity as anyone could probably get?

The orcs were running ahead of us - not in fear - but seeking the protection behind the ranks of those massive beings. It was sort of like a scene of children at play: threatened by bullies or enemies, they would run to hide behind their parents or older siblings, knowing that they would be safe once behind their living shields. We gritted our teeth but let them go – we had to deal with the huge creatures first.

"Lady, look out!"

Somehow, carried through the link that we shared via the light of Reliability and Faith, I heard Keldric cry out, and looked up as a shadow swooped from the clouds below. The men gasped, but kept moving, fear on every face as they saw a huge winged beast descend in a spiraling dive, claws outstretched as he headed straight for me with a screeching cry that sent me to the ground, pawing at my ears in agony and whimpering at the harshness of the sound. Those same claws closed around me and gripped, and suddenly I was lifted into the sky in a sudden rush that knocked the breath out of me just as we became airborne.

It was far too coincidental, I suppose, that out of all the men in the Rohirrim army, this creature had come after me, the only wolf lost in the scores of humans (and one hobbit) that filled the Fields. It made me realize that this was no simple snatch – the creature and its dark rider had intentionally come after me.

A dry, malicious chuckle resonated from somewhere above the beast. Looking up, struggling weakly, I saw nothing but a black cloak and crown. And below me stretched the Fields and Gondor, and my instincts stopped me from further struggle – it was a terribly long way down, and wolves don't come equipped with wings.

What was going on? Why me?

"Those who are not with my Master are against him," a rasping voice said in a crackle like black flames on dry wood, and the evil in the tone sent shivers down my spine. "Prepare to die, for not even the Light can help you against my Master's champion – the greatest warrior of the Dark save for myself. For you, Carcharoth's spawn, this is _the end_."

And without warning, the dark beast dropped me with a resounding shriek that I would swear was laughter. I fell like a stone.

If I'd had a voice, you'd probably only have heard one long scream of "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" coming from my throat as I flailed wildly – and uselessly – in the air, trying to slow my descent. The beast had taken me away from the battlefield and dropped me here over empty land, and I was hurtling straight towards the ground, tumbling over and over as I fell through the air. At some point, I closed my eyes and gave in, preparing for the inevitable – sudden pain and blackness before my life came to its end. I mentally bid goodbye to my friends, both past and present, and wondered if I was finally going to be with my parents again. Maybe I could see Boromir. I couldn't help but tense as the ground approached – this was going to hurt…

Well, there was definitely pain.

My eyes snapped open as something slammed into me, a black blur that raced off a passing cliff and hit me, grabbing me in mid-air, before rolling me towards the ground so that we both landed hard, bruised, but otherwise alive and unharmed. Dazed and in shock, I stared at my rescuer in gratitude and stunned amazement – I owed her my life, whoever she was.

She stared back, amber eyes glittering in her pure black face – and suddenly the Stones around my throat flickered in warning, and everything within me screamed that something was terribly, terribly wrong. The slightly goofy, 'I-can't-believe-I'm-still-alive' expression on my face faded slowly into a wary frown, and I got to my paws with an uncertain growl. One paw was badly twisted from that life-preserving roll she'd knocked me into, and I stood on three, and my body felt like it had just been in a battle with a grizzly bear – or one of those big creatures that my friends were hopefully fighting and defeating now. 

**_- Hello, Lightbringer,_ -** an amused purr echoed dangerously in my mind. **_- Yes, you see now who has just saved your life – that I might bring it to its proper end. That black fool with the crown thought to do my job for me and steal my glory, but I saw you fall and stopped him. I have my Master's favor and permission to kill you as I see fit – and I shall. My name is Dâgbûrz, the child of the dark, and I am the Champion of the Darkness, Sauron's greatest warrior, bearer of the Talismans of Shadow. Remember my name, fool, for it is the name of the one who will destroy you today – and all others who dare to oppose my Master._ -**

And with a terrible snarl, the black panther – for that was what she was – lunged with fangs bared and claws extended, and I, listening to that inner voice that always came to guide me in moments of need, prepared myself to meet her head-on.

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(prepares for the hate....)

Yeah, I was like - you all hated the last cliffhanger, and that was so mild compared to this one... how will you all react now? :) LOL, don't kill me - I'll update asap!

Review, please!

Thanks to all who took the time to read this!

RK9.


	42. An Epic Duel

**Disclaimer:** Not mine...

**Author's notes: **My laptop is down... sent for repair, so this might be the last update for a while... sorry! My home computer is very spazzy because it's more than ten years old... so even as I type this, it's likely to go down... . I will continue to try and write, though for now chapter 15 is being betaed so there'll be a wait for that too... and in the meantime, i'm focusing on my Criminal Minds fic because it's a smaller file and less likely to crash my computer - Word has a habit of encountering an error right when I've typed out an important part, and of course, right before I manage to save. . Oh, I want my laptop back - or a new one, that works too. ^.^

Anyway, just want to get this up quickly before Mozilla decides to crash as well... so thanks to all who reviewed, and sorry that it might take a while before my next update! I also have church camp this week and that'll take up writing time too....

As always, thanks for FairOphelia for the amazing beta work. (hugs)

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**Chapter 14**

_Prince Humperdinck (tracking the Princess): There was… a mighty duel. It ranged all over. They were both masters.  
Count Rugen: Who won? How did it end?  
- William Goldman, The Princess Bride (film)_

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When I was a child, I once read a book about exotic animals - creatures that might not perhaps exist in the corner of Middle-earth that I inhabited, but which were common sights in lands far away from my home. The black panther was one of those mentioned, with two whole pages devoted completely to it and its habits.

Panthers might not be the largest in the feline family, but they're among the most dangerous, along with their cousins - the leopards and jaguars. Why? Well, you can always outrun a lazy lion. You can escape a tiger by climbing a tall tree, and it will go away after a while and give up. You can outsmart any of the other big cats and get away to tell your tale.

You can't do that with a panther.

Panthers can climb, they can swim, and they're not just fast and strong - they're _intelligent_. Not just smart – these cats can take the measure of whatever prey they choose to hunt, and they are not easily fooled. The man who wrote the book was one of the select few who managed to escape a panther – and that was through no doing of his own. No matter what he had tried, he'd failed. He would have been panther-food by now, if a patrol from his village had come after him and killed the creature for him, thereby saving his life, that he might warn others about this beautiful, deadly animal.

The creature I now had to face.

I wished I had that book with me now, if only so that I could use it as a weapon and throw it at her or something.

She leapt at me, and I dodged, ducking low and barely getting away from her sharp claws. A sudden slice of pain in my shoulder told me that I hadn't, in the end, and that she was a lot faster than I'd thought she was. Her lips curled into an amused snarl – she knew it too. Without warning, she came at me again, this time biting deep into my side and ripping. I yowled in agony and twisted away, leaving some fur and flesh in her jaws, wicked curves designed to dig and tear into flesh and grip hold.

And then she was certain.

Those first two lunges had been tests. She'd been trying out my reflexes, testing me to see if I could match her speed and strength. I couldn't – and we both knew it. I was the gentle morning breeze, and she was the destructive, unforgiving cyclone – there was no way I'd be able to defeat her. Had I been fresh for battle, not fatigued and uninjured, I might have stood a fighting chance. But I was exhausted, I was drained, and I'd just survived a very, very long fall that should, by all rights, have killed me. My right paw hung completely useless - I could step on it, but it would hurt. I ached all over…

None of this mattered, though. I had to fight. The moment Ethyliss had warned me about had finally come. It was time to face my rival, my nemesis – the Champion of the Dark.

As she turned to face me, I studied as much of her as I could see in the faded light. Knowing your enemy was more than just a battle strategy, it was the code that every predator lived by. Should the moment arrive when someone bigger and stronger and tougher came to your part of the forest and put in a challenge - those who did not know their enemies, died. That was the simple truth of it all.

Her black pelt was shorter than mine, stretching over rippling muscle and sinuous flesh. Each step was balanced and controlled, the grace in each movement doing little to disguise the power being held back in her small body. She was only slightly bigger than me, and I already knew that she was faster.

Much faster.

She was also strong, filled with energy, and ready to finish me off right here and now.

Something glinted in the night, a tiny flash around her throat that drew my gaze. 

**_- Aren't they beautiful, Lightbringer? -_**

Talismans. Nine of them. Made from a strange, pure black wood-like material, they were carved with intricate symbols and strung around her neck on a rough rope. They glowed with black light that was nearly swallowed by the darkness, but my pads began to sweat as their negative energy began to seep into me, weakening me further, if that was even possible. And with a confident, gloating smile as she saw my growing weakness, she began to recite: 

_**- My Fear to your Courage. My Cruelty to your Kindness. My Enmity and Discord to your Friendship. My Duplicity to your foolish Reliability, my Ignorance to your Knowledge. Despair to Hope, Deceit to Sincerity, Hatred to Love. And finally -** _- she advanced on me with a dangerous smirk, - **_ -my overwhelming Darkness…to your weak, fragile, Light, which you have not even discovered yet. Foolish Lightwalker. Even with you at full strength, which you clearly are not, you could never hope to defeat me. Not with your final Stone still out there somewhere, unclaimed..._** -

And with a sudden movement, she straightened and roared – and her Talismans all flared as one, and the black light spilled over and onto me in one sudden, viscous movement, wrapping me in darkness and forcing me to the ground. I struggled, but it was weak at best, and before I knew it the wolf had leapt free and into the darkness, and dragged me along with it.

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_In the darkness, I saw many things. Sauron and his servant had much to show me, of what was happening and what had already happened, while I writhed helpless, caught by the dark power of the Talismans that the Dark Champion wielded with such cold efficiency. I knew as I watched that these were all real, all true – and I gasped in horror as each scene flashed by._

_The giant monsters from the Pelennor crushed Men and horses alike beneath their massive feet, and many more were swept aside by the crushing tusks, which were strung with barbed wire in order to cause maximum damage with each sweep of the long ivory points. In the citadel, that great white city of stone, women and children hid wherever they could, weeping and hoping and praying as the orcs and trolls began to ram the great doors that led to the final upper levels, where the men of Gondor waited just behind, spears and swords ready for their final stand. I saw Gandalf and Pippin among them, also with staff and sword in hand, silent and solemn as they waited for the doors to shatter and Death to storm in. I saw Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli fleeing from a torrential wave of human skulls, struggling through the unending tide to reach safety beyond the cave. I saw the black sails of the Corsairs ships, unfurled to catch the wind as they rode the river towards Gondor, to join the orc forces that were already in place. Rohan would be overwhelmed… _

_And then I saw it, the winged menace, swooping down onto the field as Théoden-King turned on his loyal white horse. His eyes widened, but he showed no fear. Raising his sword, he gave a battle cry and charged at his foe head-on – only to cry out as Snowmane was caught up by the great mouth with its jagged teeth, swung through the air in a circle and tossed onto the ground like a broken ragdoll. The King landed first, on his back, blood seeping from his mouth, and Snowmane, squealing with terror, landed on top of him, trapping him, pinning him down. _

_I saw Éowyn, open-mouthed with terror – and then the scene changed again. I had no time to recover, and still reeling from the horror of all I'd seen, I found myself plunged into a darkened cavern, surrounded by grisly remains and a horrible stench, and heard ahead of me a horrible clicking noise. Thrown forward by the shadows, I saw a massive, eight-legged spider, clicking contentedly to herself as she stood balanced over a stone stairway, her dripping mandibles moving non-stop as silk poured from her body. She was wrapping up something – no, someone – and it took me a minute to recognize who it was. But then I saw those blue eyes, wide and glassed-over in death, and I heard myself actually scream._

_It was Frodo. _

_Frodo was dead?_ _The darkness spiraled around me as I fell, and all I could see was the death-pallor of Frodo's little face and his now-lifeless blue eyes. They bored into me, those eyes, and I felt the sharp, stabbing pain of pure sorrow. The darkness was now a shell, and I retreated into it, backing away from what to me seemed the end of all our hopes. Frodo was dead – what of the Ring? Sauron… did he have it, even now? Had it been lost? If the Ring remained undestroyed, all we were fighting for – it was useless. Sauron would win anyway – and we could do nothing to stop it. _

_All around me, death. Pointless, hopeless, death. Why? _

_Frodo was dead._

_Sooner or later, we'd all join him… _

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A paw slammed into the side of my face, and I rolled over, limp as a drowned puppy. I stared at Dâgbûrz's cold, unfeeling face and moaned. I hurt all over – was shaking like a leaf.

There was a derisive snort. 

_-** Weakling. You won't even be a challenge. And imagine, my Master was so afraid of your power, and what you might do to him…**_ -

She raised her paw, claws extended, and dug them into my side, her expression now disinterested and bored – the panther was playing with her kill. I felt the pain, but merely grunted. She twisted her paw, and I gasped as stars exploded in my vision and a strange red haze began filling my line of sight… 

_- **Fight me!** - _The panther lashed at me with her other paw, striking my head._ - **Get up, you weakling! Fight me!**_ -

Why should I? She was clearly enjoying my pain, deriving great pleasure from my inability to fight back. And where I hadn't had the strength before, now I also lacked the will. Tilting my head to one side, I lolled my tongue out and grinned at her, wolf-style. I didn't care anymore – I wanted to laugh and cry and scream. Anything but this grief, anything to release the pain…

Surprisingly, that little action got to her far more effectively than anything else I might have done.

It seemed that the panther did not like being laughed at, though my humorless amusement had not been directed at her. She drew back, baring her fangs, and surged towards my throat for the killing strike –

Her fangs met flesh, but at that very moment, the Stones exploded forth with light.

Dâgbûrz gave a blood-curdling panther scream of pure terror and pain, and recoiled as though seared by flames. Pawing at her eyes, she bellowed with rage, and the things she shrieked in her thought-speak really couldn't be repeated. Crawling slowly and painfully to my paws, I watched with a kind of detached amazement - like: _'Whoa, did _I _do that?'_

Too bad I didn't have time to dwell on it.

'_Run!' _cried Knowledge, urgent and commanding, and without really thinking about it, I obeyed. I staggered on three paws, slipping and stumbling, towards the sound of the water and waves, and I'd swear I heard Nature calling me. 

_Come. Rest. Be safe. I will carry you, carry you away…_

_- **You won't escape, Lightwalker!** - _Behind me, the panther was recovering – my wolf senses were alert enough to recognize that she was getting to her paws. Desperate suddenly to get away, I pushed myself forward, tripping over my own useless paw and tumbling over, rolling into a heap. But no. The river called me, and the Stones urged me on. The panther was still slightly blinded – if I didn't run now, I might not get another chance.

"Raargh-rwr!"

Too late. She hit me square in the center of my back, and I hit the ground again, hard. Her fangs sank into my back and I yowled, turning and snapping uselessly, but I could not reach her. I rolled over, but she let go in a flash and raked her claws over my now-exposed belly, but by some stroke of sheer luck, my flailing hind legs caught her and kicked her off, though she didn't go far. She scrambled after me, panting a little, and I heard amusement color her voice as she purred, 

_- **Finally, this is getting interesting. Come, Lightbringer, let us fight!**_ -

Something flickered within me, and it wasn't just the Stones. As black light poured again from her Talismans, rainbow light came from my Stones, weak but steady, determined to protect me until the end. Breathing hard and heavily, I ignored the fire in my body and stood, facing the panther. Light clashed with darkness, and suddenly the battle was taken to a new level, a new field. Seven of the nine lights against her glowing black storm…

Seven? No, _eight_. For from the East rose a final, forgotten, pure white ray – and golden sunshine poured down as the clouds parted in the direction of the Pelennor Fields and another torrent of images filled my mind.

This time, I saw and heard the Rohirrim singing as they followed Éomer, Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli back into the fray, and the orcs fled before a ghostly green army that pursued them over the Pelennor Fields.

I saw Éowyn ripping her helmet from her head, revealing herself right before she stabbed the Lord of the Nazgûl in the face with a fierce battle-cry.

I saw Pippin and Gandalf, whirling in battle, and saw Sam – dear, wonderful Sam who I had missed so much – driving back the massive spider with nothing but his little sword, Galadriel's Elven light, and his own love for Frodo and his incredibly big hobbit spirit.

And best of all, were the final words whispered into my mind by Knowledge: _'Frodo's not dead yet, Stonebearer. Paralyzed by the spider's poison, but alive still. Hope is not dead – it is harder to kill than that, and even an evil as old as this one cannot destroy something protected by Reliability, Love and Friendship. Have a little Faith.'_

Joy filled me in a surging rush – not dead?

What a fool I'd been.

'_Look around, Stonebearer, and see. The light was there all along, just waiting beyond the dark – and the moment has come for the Shadow to go.'_

And it was. The Storm of Mordor was breaking. The darkness was fading. And from beyond the covering of cloud and shadow, mist and shade – the sun was returning to grace the land again.

Automatically, I tilted my head back to welcome the sun. Then I smiled at Dâgbûrz, who was watching the approaching light with disbelief, fear and dismay on her angular feline face.

- **_Impossible!_** - she wailed, tail lashing in fury.

I shook my head. Not with Hope and Faith.

The river's song grew louder, calling in my mind. And before the panther could do anything, I turned and ran the rest of the way – and jumped. The image of my dreams became reality, and I fell, down, down, down into surging black water – but this time, it was welcoming rather than scary, and I knew that within the river lay safety.

Neither of us had won this time around – but never mind, for nothing could have felt more like a victory than knowing that I lived still, as did my friends, and that the darkness was finally going away.

SPLASH.

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"_I've been down about as low as anyone can get  
The whole world was closin' in  
Couldn't find a friend  
No one else could help me  
Had to walk through the fire alone  
Life has brought me to my knees  
And faith has led me home…_

_Let the storm rage around me  
I will stand, I will fight  
And when the darkness surrounds me  
I will make my own light  
I may not win every battle  
But I'll get stronger with every fear I face  
And I'll be brave_

_I can be courageous and still be so afraid  
I've discovered pain is the beginning to a change  
Somewhere deep inside us  
There's a strength we don't know we have  
Just when you think you can't go on  
Suddenly there's a path…_

_Let the storm rage around me  
I will stand, I will fight  
And when the darkness surrounds me  
I will make my own light  
I may not win every battle  
But I'll get stronger with every fear I face  
And I'll be brave_

_Every time I get back, it gets harder to knock me down,  
Cause my soul's on steady ground_

_Let the storm rage around me  
I will stand, I will fight  
And when the darkness surrounds me  
I will make my own light  
I may not win every battle  
But I'll get stronger with every fear I face  
And I'll be brave…_

_Yeah, I'll be brave…"_

_-__ Jamie O'Neal, Brave_

"_There's a fine line between the darkness and the dawn. They say in the darkest night, there's a light beyond…" _

_- Five for Fighting, All I Know_

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Oh, btw - my computer is down, so you have no excuse to not review... :) I'll check 'em when I get my laptop back... Thanks for reading, hope it was worth the wait. In my personal opinion, the next chapter isn't as good, but things will slow down for a while... and then surge back up when the time is right. Chapter 15 will be the chapter where dangergurl's character premieres, so look out for that.

Kudos! Will update asap!

RK9


	43. Long Road Home

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Lord of the Rings. Prof. Tolkien does. I merely own Lady and some minor characters of my own creation.

**Author's notes:** Hey everyone! I'm back! My computer is still not with me - it's been fixed, but not collected - but the fifteenth chapter of Wolfsong is brought to you today by my best friend's laptop, which I am borrowing momentarily while I'm staying with her at her place. ^.^ This has been betaed by FairOphelia, my wonderful beta, and I continue to work on chapter 17 while she has chapter 16 with her...

Dangergurl's character makes her debut in this one - the lovely lady Livira, the winner of that little contest I ran a while back. :)

I'm afraid I'm not going to have time to write and update.. I've been ill, suspected heatstroke due to the terrible heat back home - and been so busy with a reunion and with my driving tests that I haven't been able to work, and when I did - well. My laptop was down, remember? And the home computer is a piece of shi.... yeah, ahem, well. I will be going home on Friday, and then Saturday-Sunday to Singapore... not sure for how long. But I'll keep writing! I haven't given up yet... just plan on slowing down, to spend time with my family before university sem starts in August. Sorry... but yeah. You can always reread if I update and you've forgotten everything?

I do not know how many of my readers are still here, and I'm sorry. :( But anyway, here is the next chapter, and those who are still with me - I can only hope you forgive me and enjoy it.

**Review responses: **

**memory bleeds** - Good point, but I meant that Sauron and his Champion were showing her the visions through the Talismans... not they themselves showing her. Sort of like the Stones gives her visions sometimes...

**TimeManipulator** - She lived in the town near Rivendell, and I assume that the Elves did go to town once in a while to trade or to speak to the village leaders. However, in my story, she meets Estel in the woods, perhaps while playing, and they became friends as I mentioned in the prologue. This chapter mentions a bit of that too... ;) I won't eat you. I don't think your name is in my list of favorite things to eat. xD

Oh, and the prologue... I don't remember. That was how I wrote the fic long ago in my notebooks, so I copied it all into MWord when I decided to try writing this again.

**Matt** - LOL. I got your review, and thought you were my godbrother - I asked him to take a look and drop a review ages ago, and since you have the same name and started with "I've just caught up with your story...", I thought you were him and messaged him on his phone. He was like: "I didn't leave you any reviews, it wasn't me!" Which explained why I thought it was strange - he never mentioned not liking movie-verse before, lol.

Yeah, I actually have a pretty balanced mix of movie and book-verse. I use the dialogue from the movies, but the timeline and some scenes from the books - as in I lift phrases and descriptions from the book, and fit them in. I have added in a book character here - see if you can spot him! Hope you enjoy it anyway. :)

**haha21** - Haha - must have run over from my Warriors RPG - old habits die hard. xD Or maybe I meant to type "howl". But I looked it up, and I think it's all right - in Merriam-Webster, a yowl is described as:

1 **:** to utter a loud long cry of grief, pain, or distress **:** wail

2 **:** to complain or protest with or as if with yowls

I figure any creature can do number 1... so... :) Thanks anyway.

Chapter 15!

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**Chapter 15 **

_Opening my eyes, I discovered that I was surrounded by a crushing, pulsing darkness, but was strangely not afraid. Somehow I knew that this darkness meant safety, and that I would be all right. _

_I could hear voices, murmuring as though from many miles away. The voices of my friends, amplified through a blaze of golden light, drifted to me like snowflakes, floating down through winter air. I couldn't hear exactly what was being said, but was comforted to see the yellow light of Hope as it turned and twisted through the air. It was funny… It was as though it was searching for something, but I couldn't be sure – it was light after all, it wasn't as though I could see a roving gaze or anxious expression in it…_

_But I could swear I felt that it was looking for something. Or someone. Tilting my head to one side, I considered this. Strange…_

_The darkness wavered, and seemed to fade…_

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"Berendal!"

I winced as a woman's strong voice sounded a little too close to my pounding head, striking right at the heart of my sensitive ears.

"What is it, Livira? Did you find the watermint?"

Awareness returned very slowly, and soon I registered the sharp barbs of intense pain shooting through every part of my body. Cold seeped up from the ground, which was damp, and intent on sucking the very warmth out of me. I felt exhausted and drained, with barely enough energy for even automatic body functions – like shivering. I was soaked from head to tail, trembling so finely that I could hardly tell my body was moving. Everything here smelled unfamiliar and strange, which frightened and confused me – and there was a lightness in my head which told me I needed food and sustenance, and rest, because I'd used even the reserves of my reserves. I could smell strangers nearby, a male and a female, both young adults with the scent of herbs on them. One of them reached out to touch me – I suppose it said something about my current condition that I didn't even have the energy to growl.

"It's a dog, Berendal," said the female voice, and I assumed that this must be the woman, Livira.

"… you sure it's a dog, Livira? It doesn't _look_ like a dog. It's kinda… wolf-ish, isn't it?"

Hm. Berendal was obviously the smarter one. Strangely uncaring and detached about this entire situation, I experimented with my limbs, trying to lift one of my paws. It wouldn't move, though I did grunt and shift sideways a little on the riverbank, where I'd washed up.

"Of course it's a dog, Berendal!" snapped the first voice again, in a strangely monotonous grumble. "See – it's got a collar, doesn't it? Who do you know that keeps a wolf as a pet around here? We don't even _like_ wolves – now, hurry up and get it out of the river before it drowns."

I cracked open one eye as Berendal, a young man with shaggy brown hair and dark blue eyes, came trotting forward to obey. He held out a hand for me to sniff, and I did, and once he was satisfied I wouldn't hurt him, he waded in beside me and lifted me up and out, cradling me against his chest. I yelped as agony seared through my entire body – the very air seemed to sting, and it felt like only my tail and a tiny corner of my left ear had escaped injury. He paused at the sound, but continued carrying me until we were both out of the river, and then he set me on a cloth that had been spread over the ground in front of the young woman. I found myself staring into an expressionless dark brown gaze, set in a face framed by very short blonde hair. A scar ran from her right cheek, sliced up her nose and disappeared into her hairline, and when I scanned the rest of her, I saw more running up and down any part of her skin that wasn't covered by her clothes. Battle-scars - this woman, whoever she might be, was a warrior, someone who had seen war up close and personally before.

And yet, when she touched me, probing my injuries with a professional ease, I recognized at once the touch of a healer, gentle and caring, despite the lack of emotion and expression in the young woman's face. I yelped again as her fingers found a tender spot on my side, but she merely said, "Well, doggy, if you're going to get into fights with the other wild animals here, I think a few scratches are to be expected, don't you?"

Berendal peered over her shoulder at me, blue gaze concerned. "That's more than just a few scratches, Livira," he pointed out.

"Yes – but it'll live, and that's the important thing. Hm, I know, we'll bring it back to the citadel with us. We can treat it and find its owner later."

"I guess so. Someone must be missing it. Is it a dog or a bitch?"

"Good question. I'll check."

She what?

Oh, no, they were not going to _look_ – suddenly energized, I sat up and snapped at Livira's hand when it came to lift my hind leg - never mind that it hurt me to move. I missed her, on purpose of course, but she had no way of knowing that, and I received a reproving smack on my muzzle which had me seeing stars - though it wasn't all that hard of a whack.

Behind me, Berendal laughed. "She's female, all right."

"Oh, be quiet and help me carry her to the wagon," Livira grumbled, and the young man came forward most obligingly once again.

By this time, I was starting to feel dizzy, and my sides were pure fire. I caught sight of my reflection in the river and was startled to see that my pelt had turned red – red and tangled, dripping with diluted blood – and now that I was out of the water, more was seeping from my wounds and soaking into the cloth that I'd been wrapped up in. Berendal murmured soothingly to me - as though I really was a dog - telling me that I'd be just fine, he and Livira were going to bring me to the Houses of Healing and fix me right up. There were other men who would need their attention first, but as soon as they could, they'd come back and see to me.

I didn't mind his soothing voice – it was relaxing, and his dark blue eyes were almost hypnotic when I gazed into them, suddenly quiet and at peace. It wasn't quite like Legolas' lullabies, or Aragorn's beloved tones, but for now, it soothed me, and took my mind off the pain. He had to hurt me to carry me, you see, and I knew that the pressure on my wounds couldn't be helped – but still, it didn't change that I really, really wanted it to stop, and the wolf in me was _this_ close to biting him. And then where would I be?

At least, if they brought me to the Houses of Healing – wherever those were - I could maybe make my way back to Gondor, find my friends… oh yeah, was the battle over? I squinted in confusion at the sky. It was rather out of focus, and the clouds looked blurry. I couldn't tell how long it had been since I'd entered the river – and the moments right before that were starting to become but a hazy memory in my mind, like a very realistic dream. What had happened and what hadn't? Had the light come again? Had the Shadow been repelled? Had I truly seen my friends returning to change the tide of the war, or had that been but a dream, conjured by my weakened mind and fading hope?

Had any of it been real? I couldn't tell right now, and my vision was graying around the edges. Snuggling closer to Berendal with a heavy sigh, I let go and embraced oblivion.

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_When I "awoke" again, I found myself in a yet another strange dreamscape, a place I did not know or understand, but which I found strangely familiar. I was growing used to falling asleep or unconscious and waking up in a whole new dreamworld, really, so it didn't surprise me – what surprised me was that I realized that I was dreaming. _

_And I did absolutely nothing about it. _

_I wasn't interested in waking up. Motions slow and trance-like, I smiled up at the sky, from which snow was starting to fall. The ground was already covered in a fine white powder, and I rolled around for a while in a small snowdrift before realizing that no, I wasn't here to play with the snow._

_I was… looking for something, wasn't I? There was something here that I had to see, something I needed to understand… _

_What? And why? _

_Shaking the flakes from my pelt, I got to my paws again clumsily and began to walk, ears pricked for the sound of the river and nose lifted to catch all the smells I could. This place was beautiful, but a little too silent and lonely for me to truly enjoy being here. The Stones glowed, lighting the path for me, though there was really no need – the night was not dark, and I could see. Knowledge streamed forward to lead the way, and so I followed the guiding purple light to the edge of the forest. _

_I couldn't shake the feeling that I knew this place. I'd seen it before, but where? One or two of the trees seemed terribly familiar… and yet at the same time, completely unknown. I glanced around, suddenly anxious, and my fear only grew with every step I took towards the river._

_But I had to know. I had to find… something. Knowledge turned, flickering and seeming to beckon impatiently, and I frowned but kept moving – pushy light. The forest faded in and out of my vision as I moved, focusing only on the light now…_

_If indeed I'd been here before, it must have been a very, very long time ago, because I simply could not remember when I'd come, or what I'd been doing here._

_The edge of the woods appeared, and suddenly I was at the final line of trees, half-relieved and half-afraid. The river ran right in front of that line, a slowly flowing stretch of shining dark water, with only the shaky reflection of the full moon above dipping and in out between the waves. I emerged from the forest, breath hitching unconsciously, and looked around. Where…?_

_Knowledge stopped, and slowly the light began to fold in on itself, slowly returning to the Stone from which it flowed. The other Stones had turned dark and silent, reflecting the moonlight but not shining on their own. I got the message – they weren't needed here, and I was on my own. Well, mostly. With a soft sigh, I stepped forward – and suddenly, light exploded all around me, and the dreamscape was plunged into bright, golden sunlight. _

_Automatically, I knew to look downstream, towards some natural stepping stones that provided a way to cross the water without getting your feet wet. Blinded by the sudden transition from dark to light, it took a moment to focus – and then I saw her, a tiny figure emerging from the tree line and coming to a stop by the water's edge. It was a child, a little girl of perhaps six or seven years of age, and I couldn't imagine what one so small and young would be doing out here on her own._

_Then, as the Stones flared out again softly, I gasped as voices and images came flashing through my mind, scenes from a time in the distant past that was before even I was born. The images were fleeting and blurred, but the words spoken were clear, and for a moment, it was like being in two dreams at the same time – past and present and future all melded to show me what the dream wanted me to see. A woman spoke first, lyrical and clear, like the trickling of a mountain stream._

_-** "It is done. The Stonebearer has been born, and her future lies at the end of a long and difficult path. She will be tested, but if the world is to be saved, she must pass. Little one, may your flower always remain in full bloom…" –**_

**_- "Is it safe? Will the Darkness come for her?" –_**

**_- "Undoubtedly, but for now, even the Dark Lord knows not that she has been born. He is not aware, either, of the birth of the Hopebringer, three years back." –_ **

**_- "What if he finds out?" – _**

_**- "He won't. –** The first voice was strong and decisive. **– "Greycloak is watching the child, and his mother has brought him to safety among the elves at **_**_Karningul__. He will be raised there, and hopefully his light will be hidden there in that valley until the time comes for him to shine, in the West where his future lies."_ - **

_The voices faded into sighs, soft and contented and filled with hope and longing… Downstream, I saw the girl smile and step towards the river, eyes bright with an inner sort of knowledge and confidence that directed her steps, a foresight that I'd felt before and understood. Across the river, a golden light was approaching, brilliant against the silver dawn, both lights contrasting, yet blending and complementing each other in glowing splendor. Something shifted within me, and I gasped again as once again I was hit with voices from the past…_

_-** "The road ahead will be long, as I said. But the two have been born, and they have growing up to do. They must find their way on their own." –**_

**_- "How will they know? One cannot shine without the other. How will they find each other?" –_ **

_The first voice, however, was confident and firm. **– "They will find each other, sister. They may not know, but the light inside of them surely does. They will be drawn to each other, and no distance will ever be enough to keep them apart. Especially when they become one… from the heart." –**_

_Light imploded inside my head in a blinding rush as the vision ended, and the last of the fleeting shadow images – of two women in long, flowing robes – disappeared, leaving me to blink and look downstream once last time. The brilliant golden light still shone, less bright now but no less intense, and the child met it with her own gentle aura of subtle pink, smiling with every step she took towards it._

_From the golden light, a little boy emerged, a sturdy child of nine or ten. I knew him straight away, but could only watch in open-mouthed amazement as he gave a wordless cry and ran forward, seeming to fly over the stepping stones as he ran to the girl, whose smile was bright enough to rival the sun. A few steps more, and the two met – and the boy lifted the girl into his arms, into an embrace that seemed to last forever. Around them, the very air seemed to sing as their two lights came together – yellow and pink – into one multi-colored glow…_

_It was like the horizon. Earth and sky together, meeting in one seamless line that went on forever, as far as the eye could see, and though logic told us that both were separate entities - from far away, all we knew was that they were one. The boy was the earth here, and the girl like the sky. And like the horizon, they had come together and become one entity that was meant to be. _

_This was what I was supposed to see, to understand. And it hadn't been me that was searching… it was these two, the children, the girl and boy. And I knew now when I had been here before…_

_Eyes widening, the whole world seemed to stop as realization awakened Knowledge in my head. The purple light sang as it burst forth, and I remembered -_

_As if on cue, the children turned to me, with gentle smiles and large, innocent eyes. The boy's were noble and gray, and his hold on the girl was both protective and caring. The girl accepted his embrace, and her light shone forth in an unchecked tidal wave that illuminated everything – earth, sky, and the entire forest. Her mouth curved into a grin, and she waved at me… before both disappeared, along with the dreamscape, leaving me floating in a world of darkness and limbo, alone with the startling revelation of my memories._

_You see, I knew that forest now, the place where I'd first met Estel: the woods near my hometown. And I knew those children. The boy _ was_ Estel, my oldest and dearest friend. And according to those voices, he was the girl's other half, the part that made her whole. The Hopebringer to my Lightbringer…_

_Which made sense, because the girl that he had been hugging - that was me, my younger self, the child I had once been._

_And far in her future, now my present – I was no longer one with Estel, separated from him by time and distance, and I did not know where I could find him again. So maybe I had been searching, after all… but I hadn't known that I'd been searching for _him_..._

_Oh, my head hurt!_

_As an agony that I did not understand filled me to the core, I curled into a tiny ball, retreating into myself in a whirling halo of shame and sadness, whimpers of loss and disappointment issuing from my muzzle. Far from helping me understand, the dream had confused me, as had the return of pain to my body, here where all pain and emotion should be absent. As I slipped once again into the darkness, I called out Estel's name. The sound came echoing back through the darkness… and if there was a reply buried beneath it all, I did not stay to hear it. A wind blew through the darkness, sweeping me up into it, and the last I saw of that dream was a golden light, searching for its counterpart and other half over a brown and barren land that was only newly reawakened… _

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"_I hear the wind call my name  
The sound that leads me home again  
It sparks up the fire, a flame that still burns  
To you I'll always return  
I know the road is long  
But where you are is home  
Wherever you stay, I'll find the way  
I'll run like the river, I'll follow the sun  
I'll fly like an eagle to where I belong_

_I can't stand the distance  
I can't dream alone  
I can't wait to see you  
Yes, I'm on my way home_

_Now I know it's true  
My every road leads to you  
And in the hour of darkness  
Your light gets me through_

_You run like the river, you shine like the sun  
You fly like an eagle  
You are the one  
I've seen every sunset  
And with all that I've learned  
Oh, it's to you,  
I will always, always return."_

_- Bryan Adams, I Will Always Return (Finale), Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron soundtrack_

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"_Wait, she's waking up."_

"_My lord, are you sure?"_

"_I'm quite certain, my lady Livira. This is no dog. I'm glad young Donovan here stopped you from bringing her into the city at the first gate."_

"_But… oh, sage and chicory, how strange! I really thought she was a dog… But, sire, you just said she's not a wolf either, so what is she?"_

My left ear twitched, awareness woke me, and it was like opening a dam – but instead of water, aching pain gushed into my side and belly, stinging due to exposure to the air. I groaned, hoping the pain would subside soon, and felt a hand settle gently on my shoulder to prevent me from getting up.

They had no need to worry. I couldn't lift my head, never mind my body. My eyes felt gummy, like they had been stuck together, and I felt like... like…

Like I'd gotten into a fight with a panther and fallen into a dratted river, actually.

And then thrown into a strange, confusing dream, and awoken to find that – I'd been bumped into a strange city of white stone on a wooden cart while surrounded by bundles of herbs?

When my vision finally cleared, I looked around at the buildings, the cart, the herbs that I'd seen without truly 'seeing' them… and then at the group of human faces peering carefully down at me. Four stood out in particular – Livira and Berendal, I recognized, and beside them a young guard around their age, and a tall, dark-haired lord dressed in silver with the motif of a swan on his armor and cloak. Stern silver eyes stared at me, and I swallowed with a dry throat, staring back nervously.

Where was I, who were these people, and _why_ was this man looking at me like that?

They all stared at me for a long time, following the lord's example, until finally Livira leaned forward, looked at me almost regretfully, and hesitantly asked in her strange monotone: "Lady? Is that your name? You're Lady?"

I stared at her, blinked twice in shock, then nodded slowly. I didn't know how she'd found out who I was, but yes, to all extents and purposes, that was my name. She stepped back, shaking her head in disbelief.

"You… you understood me? That's impossible…"

Berendal, after some initial surprise, suddenly smirked. "I _told_ you it wasn't a dog," he said smugly.

"No," said the silver-clad lord. "She most definitely is not. Her name is Lady, and… she is the beloved companion of the Lord Aragorn and his company – the Lady Wolf whom Mithrandir and his companions have been searching for so desperately ever since the battle ended yesterday. The collar – that is the distinguishing mark that we were told to look for." He leaned over the cart, and suddenly, his face lightened as a small smile appeared on his face. "My Lady," he said, with a polite incline of his head, "I am Imrahil, the Prince of Dol Amroth, and it is an honor indeed to meet with you at long last. My new liege-lord and leader has been truly anxious to find you… and I shall be very glad to be able to finally set his worries at ease. It will no doubt please him greatly to discover that you are alive, even if so badly injured…" Turning, he commanded gently, "Come, Livira, and stir yourself, Berendal. We must bring Lady to the encampment outside the city. The Lord Aragorn is there now, and will undoubtedly wish to tend to her injuries personally."

Did he just say _Aragorn_? I felt my muzzle twitch into a genuine wolf smile, lip curled and tongue lolling, as the first embers of hope were stoked into life within me. I longed to see my friends again… Heart in my throat, I stopped breathing as the Prince turned back to me – and smiled.

"That's right, my Lady Wolf," he assured me, gray gaze gentle as he looked into my eyes."We're going to bring you back to your friends and loved ones. We're going to bring you home."

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_"My home is not a place, it is people." _ — _Lois McMaster Bujold_

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Please do not expect a speedy update, though I will try...

And please do let me know if you are still here and still want more of this fic...

Thanks and God bless,

RK9.


	44. Reconnection and Recovery

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Master Tolkien's great masterpiece... but I figure I should at least buy a copy from the bookstore. :/Lady is mine, and Livira belongs to dangergurl.

**Author's notes:** Just want to thank everyone who is still here and reading for their patience, and many thanks to all who have reviewed! I have to study for a test this Friday, hope to work on Chapter 17 soon... and I have only one review to respond to, from "Me".

First off, thank you for your opinion, but I do note that you had only read up till chapter 15 - thanks for that much at least. I had put Lady through the Mary Sue Litmus Test and she did turn out a Sue, but only a Borderline Sue and since then (meaning Wolflight and beyond) I have worked to make her less of a Sue and more of a character, and though it is hard not to focus on her since the story is told from her POV, I have done my best to focus instead on the story and the other characters, as much as I can from Lady's POV. Lady does not fit the definitions of a Mary Sue according to this: http: // en . wikipedia . org / wiki / Gary_Stu_ % 28fandom % 29 #Male_variations so I'm feeling a lot better about her character as she has evolved since I started this fic. As I have also stated, I started this fic when the LOTR fandom was still new, and I hadn't much experience in writing, and much of the first part of this fic is unchanged from how I wrote it then, which explains why the first part is not as good as the second and third part now.

Secondly, you expressed concern that I relied too much on dialogue from the film. Well, I am following the story from the film, I also have some dialogue from the book within this fic and I have since added some original stuff that isn't found in book or film....but thanks for your input anyway.

Finally, if you had read beyond chapter 15, you would have noticed one author's note where I asked people if they minded that I was writing this fic in American English, which I prefer when I'm writing fics, since I am aware that the books use British English - "Gandalf the _Grey_, _Grey_hame, and that word you noticed, 'Travellers' instead of 'travelers' and etc... No one responded, no one said they minded... which is why I chose to continue in American English, since most of the fic had been written in American English anyway. If a lot of people had told me to change it, then I would have... as it is, I plan to continue now with American spelling, it is too late to change back unless it's really a huge issue for everyone reading it now...

If you don't like my little fic, and do not wish to read further, then I am sorry, but thanks for the review anyway. I would ask that you read beyond the first part though, as the fic does get better... but that is completely up to you.

Now, here's the long-awaited Chapter 16. :)

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**Chapter 16**

Livira clicked gently to her pony as we turned towards the encampment, just outside the city, where the army of the Rohirrim was staying in the aftermath of the Battle of the Pelennor Fields, whilst the next move was decided. I was a little surprised – a little naively, I'd assumed that the worst was over, that this was the end of the fighting… at least for a while. Imrahil said that Aragorn was staying here – he had only entered the city for a while to tend to the injured in the Houses of Healing, but then he had made the decision that he would not enter again until the time was right – and so here he was, with Legolas, Gimli, and the army of Rohan, as well as the former slaves and small number of men that he had brought along with him from the Pelargir, men from Lamedon and other places – men who followed the returned King, who were willing to fight for Middle-earth and freedom.

As I listened to what little Imrahil told me, it became clear that a King had indeed returned to Gondor. I became a little subdued, worried about this change and how it would affect our friendship – but then I decided to trust to faith, and see what happened. King or Ranger, Aragorn would undoubtedly still be Aragorn.

We neared the tents, and Imrahil led the way here, showing us to the largest tent, outside which sat the well-known and well-loved figures of a familiar Elf and Dwarf. Imrahil dismounted from his horse and came to lift me gently from the cart, hefting me into his arms with a grunt, and though it hurt, my eager whining wasn't because of the pain.

Legolas looked up and spotted us, nodding respectfully to Imrahil – and then his gaze locked onto me and his jaw actually dropped. Gimli, who had been polishing his axe, suddenly widened his eyes and dropped the weapon, which fell forgotten to the ground.

Then, with a roar, the Dwarf got to his feet and charged across the field towards us, and I whined louder as Legolas called out in Elvish towards the tent, then followed his friend with longer, graceful Elven strides.

"My lord Imrahil!" he exclaimed.

"Prince Legolas," acknowledged the Prince, with a smile. "Is this then the wolf you were all searching for among the dead and injured, on the Fields after the battle had ended?"

"Indeed she is," rumbled Gimli, coming to a stop and reaching out with a slightly trembling hand to touch my bloodied fur. He smiled at me with wonder. "Ah, bless you, lassie, ye've truly cheated death again…"

"They said they saw you taken by the Black King, carried away by the Winged Menace!" Legolas joined his friend, eyes shining as he ran his gaze over me. "And you're injured, Lady…"

"Yes, we'd best get her to the Lord Aragorn," Imrahil stated, then released his hold on me with a startled expression as I practically leapt from his arms, to Legolas'. I snuffle-licked and whimpered, and the light of Friendship and Love leapt free for a moment as, heedless of my injuries, I snuggled in close.

My friends. I'd missed them so…

But it wasn't until I caught a familiar scent on the breeze, and looked beyond Legolas, to a rapidly approaching Aragorn, that I knew I had truly come home.

I have no words to describe my joy at being with my friends again. I'd known, fiercely believed, that I would see them again, but that feeling was not made real until now. Gandalf joined us as well, emerging last from the tent with Éomer, and Imrahil, Berendal and Livira were all forgotten as I greeted each and every one of them, even Éomer, who seemed sterner and sadder than I'd ever known him to be. Aragorn received me from Legolas, mindful of my wounds, then proceeded to hug me so tightly that I feared my bones would break… 

_Yellow and pink light, meeting and merging, as a silent forest watched and the sky rejoiced, pouring sunlight down over the land in golden streams. _

...I shook my head to clear the vision, and smiled in contentment. Gandalf gave me a strange, thoughtful look, then smiled too.

"Welcome home, Lady," he murmured, patting my head gently. "Welcome home."

And though I felt there was some sort of double meaning behind the old Wizard's words, I shrugged it off and allowed Aragorn and the others to carry me into the tent.

It was just good to be back…

By the next morning though, my feelings of joy and ecstasy had faded into a sad, yet peaceful thoughtfulness. I had a lot to sort through – I'd caught up with the others on the events of the Battle and the war, learning of Théoden-King's death, Éowyn and Merry's injuries, and their valiant act of slaying the Witch-King, and the fell creature that he rode. Legolas and Gimli had spoken a little of their journey down the Paths of the Dead, though Gimli had been reticent to speak of that path at all. I learned of the cursed army, and how they had come with Aragorn down the Pelargir, fighting their way through Harad and Umbar, and later on the Pelennor itself, after which Aragorn had finally declared their oath fulfilled and freed them for their final rest at long last. Gandalf spoke the least, but I learned enough to understand that Pippin was now a Guard of the Citadel, and he was with the recovering Merry in the Houses of Healing, and that I was to join them there soon, to be under the care of the healers. I wasn't so happy about that, but it was hard to argue when one didn't even have a voice…

Right now, I was sprawled boneless on the ground, head in Legolas' lap, as Aragorn examined my bandages and stitches yet again. The former Ranger and Livira had patched and stitched my wounds together, cleaning them and applying poultices of all kinds, and though the attention had been stifling, I wasn't about to complain – at least I wasn't dead, and I was with Aragorn again.

My friend patted the last bandage into place, and looked at me, with a gentle sigh. "What happened to you, Lady?" he wanted to know. "These injuries look as though they came from a wild animal… what happened?"

"I suppose we'll never know," Legolas said softly. His hands stroked rhythmically over the uninjured parts of my body, and I sighed, content. I wished I could tell them, too…

"Oh, I wouldn't say that, Legolas. I might have an idea or two about what happened to our Lady…"

Gandalf entered the tent with a smile, and I thumped my tail in lazy greeting to my Wizard friend. I knew why he was here, and so reluctantly I disentangled myself from Legolas and made my way over carefully. I was fine, just sore, and my sides felt tight where the stitches were. My collar had had to be removed, because it chafed against the bite wound there – but Aragorn had compromised by finding me a silver chain to wear the Stones on once again.

Aragorn and the others looked up and nodded in greeting, as Legolas smiled ruefully and quipped, "But you're not going to tell us, are you, Gandalf?"

The Wizard smiled mysteriously, and then turned to me.

"They've prepared a bed for you in the Houses of Healing, Lady," Gandalf informed me gently. "And the rest of us will be gathering for Council here, with Éomer and the Prince… we have much to discuss. But you will see Pippin again, and Merry, though he is still abed at the moment. Young Peregrin will have to leave soon, I'm afraid, as will we all - but you and Merry will be staying here…" He gave me a stern look, and I grunted unhappily – where were they going? - but there was a look in Gandalf's eye that told me not to argue, at least not now.

I'd find him later, when I was a little stronger, and tell him that I had to go with them, wherever they went, and I wouldn't be left behind. Not this time.

"I will talk to you later," the Wizard murmured, gaze meeting mine, in such a soft whisper that I don't think anyone else heard him, just me, and perhaps the Elf with his superior hearing. Surprised, I gave him a nod, and allowed Legolas to carry me out to where Livira and Berendal were waiting with the cart again. Gandalf must have commissioned them to bring me to the citadel, and this time, instead of herbs, there were soft cloths and pillows to cushion my aching body. Legolas deposited me gently in the back, and Aragorn cupped my muzzle with his hand and lifted my head to meet his gaze, promising, "We'll see you later, Lady, if we can."

That would be a very big 'if', I knew. Licking my friends as they moved away, I watched forlornly over the edge of the cart as Livira clicked gently to the pony and we got moving.

It felt like I was leaving them all over again.

Thankfully, Berendal at least didn't give me the chance to go very far down into depression. The curious young man turned around from the driver's seat as Livira drove. The woman had her usual stoic expression on place, but Berendal had a friendly smile on as he nodded courteously to me. "You'll be all right in the Houses, Lady," he said kindly, blue eyes bright and young. "The healers made up a real nice bed for you – a real bed, on Gandalf's request. They were going to set you up in a dog's basket with some old rugs, but Mithrandir was insistent that you deserved better…"

Livira clucked, and the pony leapt forward, jerking the cart. Berendal turned in a hurry, and I smiled. The woman had a way of communicating without words. I sensed that she wasn't completely comfortable with me… though exactly why, I wasn't sure. Perhaps because I was neither truly wolf nor truly human. She probably couldn't figure out what I was, or how to handle me – and that unsettled her, probably.

And in turn, that unsettled me, because I didn't know what she was thinking, or how to set her at ease….

There were a lot of things I had to think about, though, so I didn't dwell on her for too long…

For instance, about that strange dream-vision-memory I'd had. And about this strange feeling in my gut that said that nothing was over, though the battle be won. And a strange sadness, a feeling that something terrible was yet to happen - but no. Best not to analyze a feeling I did not understand myself…

I remained thoughtful all the way to the citadel, listening as Berendal started a cheerful spiel about Gondor, telling me about the city he loved and had been born and raised in. It was clear to me that although most of it lay in near-ruin after the battle, Berendal was refusing to see the destruction – he was looking at it through the eyes of a true Gondorian, and telling me of the beauty he remembered and loved with all his heart… and even Livira looked up at one point and cracked a very small smile, sharing in his pride in their city, though it was brief, and she looked annoyed with herself after. But really, when I looked at it through their eyes…

Thankfully, neither Livira nor Berendal were looking in my direction when the Stone of Sincerity activated, green light spilling forth like a cup overflowing, sliding like green mist over my body. Closing my eyes, I could see what they saw, Gondor in a time before the battle, when the air was sweet and clear, and the white stone was unblemished and beautiful and the people sang joyfully in the streets. The vision faded quickly, but when it did, I smiled.

Ignoring the staring of the people we passed, I turned to watch the sun rise higher into the sky, and listened to the whispers of the wind as we climbed, one gate at a time.

_Whatever comes, Lightbringer, you'll just have to take. You'll understand everything in the end – or at least what you need to know in order to do what must be done. Take life as it comes, and enjoy as much of it as you can. The future is dark for you, difficult and uncertain… which is why you will need us and your friends to light the way for you as far as we can…'_ '

"Lady!"

We had reached the sixth gate, and I glanced up in surprise at the shout. Awaiting our arrival on the steps leading up to the seventh level and the paved courtyard, was none other than young Peregrin Took, whom I had not seen since he had left Rohan with Gandalf...

I whined happily, and he came bounding over, jumping into the cart with me without so much as a "How do you do?" to Livira and Berendal. The guards just looked amused, and Berendal was openly curious about this strange, short person who had just leapt into the cart.

"You must be the _perian_, Peregrin?" he asked, blue eyes bright. "_Emil i Pheriannath?_"

Emily who? No, he was just Pippin, my own dear, sweet Pippin whom I had missed so much. The Hobbit blushed, but then latched onto my neck and squeezed.

"You've grown thinner," he tutted worriedly. "Haven't you been eating, Lady?"

I snuffled his ear affectionately. Trust Pippin to worry about that. And Merry, when I saw him, would undoubtedly be no different…

Sometimes, no matter how much things changed, other things remained the same.

The thought was a comforting one indeed.

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Pippin did not wait for Livira and Berendal to leave us and return to their duties in other parts of the Houses of Healing; I had barely made myself comfortable on my new bed before he moved to gently wake Merry. The other hobbit was dozing, pale and wan, but Pippin had been telling me that he was well on the road to recovery… it made me wonder what he had looked like before, then. But his eyes were bright when he looked up, and though I saw in them the shadow of grief, I realized that Pippin was right. His spirit was just too gay and strong, and now Aragorn had called him back, he would continue to get better. He grieved for Théoden-King, but then, his grief would not harm him: no, it would teach him wisdom, and he would only be stronger for it.

Having last seen me being snatched away by the Witch-King's foul beast, Merry had believed that I was dead and lost too, and though others must have assured him otherwise, he hadn't been able to believe it until he saw me now, with his own eyes. Despite protest from Pippin, he ended up with me on my bed, and grabbed me around the neck in a hug.

Since I hadn't seen him since being separated from him and Éowyn, I wasn't about to complain. Reconnecting, recovering – I soon realized that this was the order of my day. Being able to see and be with my friends again – it helped me heal, inside where it mattered, while my outside benefitted from my rest and state of mental and emotional peace. This was my light after being struck by the Shadow, and with the light, I felt my strength grow…

Pippin sighed, and I lost my trail of thought.

Merry and I both turned curiously to him, wondering what was wrong.

"Just wondering what they're discussing so deeply down in the camp," the youngest hobbit said, with a shrug.

I shrugged back, and winced as the action pulled on my stitches.

"Probably about what we're going to do next," Merry said softly. His smile dropped a little at the corners. "The Shadow isn't defeated yet, you know."

"I know," Pippin said, and seemed to deflate. "When will it end, Merry?"

We paused, but we all knew the answer. When Sauron was vanquished for good; when Frodo completed the quest he had set out to do. Then it would be over... but how would we reach such an end?

"Gandalf will let us know what happens," Merry said, at last, as the silence stretched and eventually became rather stifling and awkward, and the three of us moved closer together, unconsciously seeking comfort from one another. Pippin's fingers tangled in my fur, and I shivered slightly at the suddenly cold touch.

'_The wind blows, Lightbringer. What it brings with it, no one can say. It will push you forward into the future - and blowing back from future to present, it gives you a hint of what is to come…'_

The light flickered, the room seemed to dim… and Gandalf walked quietly through the door, with Legolas and Gimli not far behind him. One look at their sober expressions, and we knew they had something to tell us.

'_Are you ready for what must come? The final Stone awaits, as does battle and difficult choices, choices that must be made… and all you can do, Stonebearer, is listen to the light inside…'_

"Well, my friends," the Wizard said tiredly, moving towards the bed with a very small smile. "Come morning, we ride to war and death. We take the fighting to Sauron, we shall bring the best of ours against the best of his – and all in the vain hope that we shall be enough of a distraction for Sauron to remove his gaze from the dark paths that Frodo now walks. Every step towards Mount Doom is a step towards the end of Sauron and his reign. The decision has been made – and so we will do what we can."

Pausing, he took in our startled, worried expressions, and sighed. "As Aragorn has begun, so we must go on. We can only hope that it will be enough."

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Working on the next part, please review in the meantime and let me know if you're still with me? Pretty please? Once again, I can only apologize that RL kicked me in the butt and left me unable to update for months... please forgive me and do keep reading! :)

Until the next chapter,

RK9.


	45. Awakening

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Lord of the Rings. The song quoted is by Miley Cyrus (dodges rotten vegetables) and I liberated one line below from a song by the talented Mark Hildreth.

**Author's note/apology:** I'm so sorry everyone. I realize it has been months since my last update, but in my defense, I was busy with uni, writer's block, Christmas, family... in short, with the demands of real life and a hectic schedule. Things haven't been easy for me since 2010 began... not that I can't handle it, but my writing has slowed down overall, and I'm doing the best I can. I can only apologize deeply to all my readers (if anyone's still here) and say that I will do my best to keep updating as often as I am able to. Right now I'm on Chinese New Year break, and this chapter is unbetaed... will send the next chapter to my beta and hope she replies...

My great thanks to all who are still here reading, and to those who have reviewed or added this fic to their favorites and story alert lists. My congratulations to ":D", who managed to correctly identify what inspired the Stones - well done, fellow Digimon fan. :) Kudos to you!

Now, to further prove how sorry I am for not having updated as often as I used to, here is Chapter 17, and I promise I will get 18 up as soon as my schedule allows - I will be back in uni by the end of this week, so no promises. :( But please, do keep reading! I haven't given up on this fic yet!

* * *

**Chapter 17 **

"…_every step I'm taking,  
Every move I make feels,  
Lost with no direction,  
My faith is shaking._

_But I, I gotta keep trying…  
Gotta keep my head held high…"_

_-__ Miley Cyrus, The Climb_

* * *

It would have been nice to be able to sleep that night. But worry has a way of keeping one wide awake, and it was no different for me, wolf though I might be. After Gandalf had outlined Aragorn's plan, my belly did a flip-flop and stayed that way for the rest of the night, long after he and the others had bid the hobbits and I good night.

Pippin was to go, but not Merry, myself or Éowyn, for we were all three of us still recovering.

"No, Lady," Gandalf said as I frowned and Merry protested. "Aragorn has said that you and Merry have done your parts in this war. It is Peregrin's turn now for peril - though he has done as well as his fortune has allowed him, he has yet to match your deeds. I agree with him. But in truth all now are in like danger. Though it may be our part to find a bitter end before the Gates of Mordor, if we do so, then you also will come to a last stand, either here or wherever the black tide overtakes you." He paused and looked me in the eye. "And you, at least, are not yet ready. Not until the final Stone has been found."

I sagged, disappointed. I had not forgotten the ninth Stone…not really. But in light of recent events, perhaps I had put that little goal at the back of my mind and, well, _misplaced_ it somehow. But… surely it wasn't that important? Did I need it so urgently?

In my mind, an image of the panther and her nine Talismans flashed. I shivered, suddenly feeling cold, though in the grate the fire still burned merrily.

No, no – why was I afraid? This darkness, at least, was just me in the way of the light…

Looking reluctantly at Gandalf, I nodded. He was right. I had my own quest to complete… though without him or Ethyliss around, I had no idea where to start.

It was why later that night, I found myself restlessly pacing the gardens of the Houses of Healing, taking comfort from the grass and flowers and earthy herbs. It wasn't the forest, but it was natural and green and it comforted me far more than the white stone walls of the city could right now. Alone but for the night breeze, I limped my way back and forth and tried to think, trying not to lose hope. Gandalf had promised he would meet me here, to speak with me before he left with the men the following morning. It was getting late now, but I knew he would come – and I might as well _try_ to do something productive since sleep was evading me anyway.

Strange scents carried over to me on the wind, and I closed my eyes and lifted my nose to sample a few of them, out of pure instinct. I recognized the smell of wood-fire smoke and supper being cooked, the scent of lamp oil and candle wax and children and goodness-knew-what else – basically, the scents of people and civilization. I paused as the familiarity of it all carried me back to the past, to the time just before I had lost my mother… and my human form. My mother's hometown had many smells that had been much the same, though I have to admit I'd never noticed them all until I'd gained this form. But as a human, I'd not needed a heightened sense of smell to experience such moments.

Stew had been a common dish for supper, along with the last of whatever bread we had baked that morning, and if none was left then we got out biscuits, buns… whatever else we felt like having that was available to us. We might not have been well-off but food was always available, and when it wasn't, we remained thankful that we had each other. I could recall sipping a warm glass of milk, wrapped in a warm blanket while my mother boiled tapioca root to be served with sugar, or salt, if we had that on hand. It was a simple but delicious snack, and all of a sudden I missed it, and the memories from long ago.

Maybe it was selfish, but at that moment, I truly wanted to be human again… or half-Elven, so to speak. I wanted to stand on two legs, not four, and be the young woman I had been born to be. I missed my hair, my eyes and nose… missed seeing in color, missed having an opposable thumb! I missed not having a tail. I missed the days of long ago when all I'd known in the world was my mother and my village, and how to help those who were ill or injured. And most of all, I missed the ability to talk and sing and laugh and cry… and be able to express myself with all the millions of human expressions under the sun.

Whether human or dwarf, elf or hobbit – these were the gifts that we animals could never have, though we had our own ways of showing our emotions. Yet true animals experienced so few. The other races were the ones who truly felt and experienced all kinds of feelings… and their lives were enriched by it. And I wanted it all back right now, more than I ever had before. I wanted… I just….

_I want to be me again._

Closing my eyes and lowering my head, I sighed.

"That sounds like it has the entire world weighing it down, little one."

Startled, my first instinct was to spin, bristle my fur, and growl. The wind blew away from me, which was why I had not scented anyone coming from behind me… and lost in my thoughts as I had been, I wouldn't have heard anything anyway. It took a moment to remember that I had nothing to fear within these walls, at least not now. The city had been made safe, no more threats lurked here. We had made sure of that. The Shadow lurked in the East, and that was where the fight would be taken to come morning.

However, I did not know this man, and though I stopped growling my fur stayed the way it was, and I crouched in a defensive, wary position as I eyed him up and down.

He was dressed in simple brown clothing, though his nightshirt was white beneath a light tan jacket. Noticing my fear, he held up his hands in a gesture of reassurance and slowly took a step back. Recognizing the gentleness in his warm eyes, I slowly felt myself relax. When he extended one hand towards me, palm facing upwards, I cautiously moved forward and sniffed it, meeting his gesture of friendliness with one of my own.

He smelled of the spring, of warm sun and melting snow. I nuzzled his palm, intrigued by the warmth and nobility I sensed emanating from the man's very soul. By the time the Stones around my neck reacted, glowing slightly in response to his presence, I already knew that this man could be trusted, and was no threat to me.

Satisfied in turn that I wasn't going to attack him, and that I was no longer afraid of him, the man knelt beside me and offered me his hand again, this time turned sideways in a handshake.

"My name is Faramir," he said. "And you must be the Lady Wolf whom I have heard so much about from a certain hobbit we both know. Peregrin was his name. Perhaps you know of him?"

Pippin… Nodding, I smiled at him and slipped my paw into his hand, and he shook it very solemnly. Deciding that I could like this man, I dropped my paw when he did and trotted after him towards the wall, hopping up unsteadily after him as he climbed up to sit on it.

Now that I thought about it, Pippin had mentioned Faramir to Merry and myself last night. The son of the former Steward of this city, currently the acting Steward after his father's death… which the hobbit had been reluctant to elaborate on. Pippin had said that like Éowyn, he had been touched by the shadow, and - also like Éowyn - he had been called back by Aragorn. Other than that and the fact that he was apparently Boromir's younger brother though, I did not know any more about him. But from my own instincts about people and the input from the Stones... I knew all that I needed to know: Here was a good man, and I was safe with him here.

We sat in silence for a while, the moon a glowing chaperone far above us. I dozed a little and kept an ear open for Gandalf, but the Wizard didn't appear. Instead, Faramir's hand came down to stroke over my fur as the man began to talk.

"You interest me, you know?" he asked, and I lifted my head to look properly at his profile as he kept staring out over the city. It was apparently a rhetorical question, as he continued, "I've never heard of anyone having a wolf for a traveling companion before, except perhaps in the old tales of adventure - but those wolves weren't exactly on the side of good."

I pricked an ear and tilted my head sideways, and finally he looked at me and smiled. "Don't worry. Mithrandir told me a little about you. He said you were not an ordinary wolf, and you have your own destiny to complete. It lies in the East, doesn't it? But then I wonder why you will not be going with the men to the Gates. Seven thousand strong an army they have, and yet they will not add the Stonebearer to their ranks?"

Shock raced through me, and I looked sharply up at him. _What _had he said?

But how? How did he know -?

He grinned again. "Be easy," he said. "As I said, I had a small chat with Mithrandir about you. I have read some of the old tales – and there are many – about the Stonebearer. They differ in details, as legends tend to do when passed down through time from hand to eyes and mouth to ears, but the basic story is that the Stonebearer carries the strength of Men and all free races on her shoulders – or in your case, I see, around your neck…."

Unable to lie down any longer, I sat up, letting the new Steward's hand fall from my back. What was he talking about? I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Old tales? Legends passed down through the generations? It wasn't possible. No one had ever mentioned that I was… that Stonebearers had existed in this world before, I mean, not until there were stories about them and all! I mean, people knew about the dragons, and other folklore… but the Stones and the Stonebearer… how had any stories about them been written? And if so, how come not many knew of them? How -?

Gandalf must have known then! He had said nothing – but… was that then how he seemed to know so much about the Stones?

Faramir must have read something in my expression, because he paused a moment and frowned. "Lady… what is it?"

My mind racing, I tried to shake my head and tell him everything was fine, but then he suddenly understood.

"Did you not know? I see… Would you like to come with me?" he offered. "I can show you the library here, and the archives, where the stories of older times are kept. I can show you what you need to know."

Perhaps it was his words, that made me nod and eye him curiously, wondering - because he sounded as though he knew more than he was supposed to know. Was it truly coincidence that had brought him here to meet and talk with me tonight? And where was Gandalf? Why wasn't he here, when he had promised to meet me?

Dusting off his pants, Faramir got off the wall and led the way back. I took one last look at the night sky and the garden, then turned and followed him.

And deep inside of me, _something_ was beginning to stir.

* * *

_'Faramir the younger was like [Boromir] in looks but otherwise in mind. He read the hearts of men as shrewdly as his father, but what he read moved him sooner to pity than to scorn. He was gentle in bearing, and a lover of lore and of music….He welcomed Gandalf at such times as he came to the City, and he learned what he could from his wisdom, and in this as in many other matters he displeased his father.' _

– _from the appendices of The Lord of the Rings_

* * *

Faramir definitely knew his way around. He led me easily through the place, and snagged a torch from the wall, lighting it before opening one side of a pair of heavy wooden doors, pushing in and wincing a little. I looked at him in concern – like me, he had been injured and was still recovering, but he shrugged it off and beckoned to me. I followed cautiously, unused to this human building and the stone walls that surrounded me. We came into a room that was almost as large as the great hall, and Faramir flitted to a few of the torches that hung from the walls and lit them, bringing flickering lamplight to illuminate the room. He smiled at me, looking pleased.

"Many a day I spent in here, when I could get away from my lessons or my training. I love lore and history, but it displeased my father when I came in here. He and my brother were so alike… they did not understand my love for books and reading, for learning about the past. My brother did not understand…" he paused, then went on, almost to himself, "I could lose myself in here, forget my problems. Sometimes my books were better friends than the people around me…"

Looking at him, I felt my heart stir with empathy – I understood what he meant. I had been a lonely child, but books had been my friends. I had always loved Estel more of course, but when he was not there then the pages of a book could always be an acceptable substitute, and I could forget all my worries and cares while lost in other people's adventures, or learning more about the world around me. About history, about other cultures…about the past. But never in my life had I had access to such a magnificent storehouse of books.

There were so many here. Shelves lined the walls, stretching from floor to ceiling. I could not imagine how one would be able to reach the top, until I saw a ladder leaning against one of the shelves. Tables and chairs for reading were in the center of the room – oh, if I could, I would gladly lose myself in here. As I scanned the shelves, even with my poorer wolf vision I could already see some intriguing titles that I was itching to pull down and look through.

It took some effort to drag myself away and trot over to where Faramir had gone to some dust-covered shelves at the very end of the room, and was now attempting to pull the ladder over one-handed. I watched him rather doubtfully, as he wrestled with the heavy wood, muscles trembling and straining, but he eventually managed to get it leaning against the shelves so he could clamber up. I darted forward and leapt up to steady it with my paws as it wobbled dangerously, but Faramir barely noticed, so engrossed was he in scanning and riffling through the books on the very top shelf. He tossed one or two down, then suddenly gave an exclamation and pulled out a massive, dust-covered tome, sliding backwards and back to the floor, skipping the last few rungs and leaping down to land heavily beside me.

"There." He grinned at me, covered in dust and spider webs, and held out the book so that I could see the cover. It was a faded, leathery black, and the title had faded off so much that all I could see – even with the dust mostly cleared - was the barest outline of some letters in a spidery script. It didn't look like the Westron script I was used to… perhaps an older variation of it, which I hoped was only for show on the title and not used for the tales inside.

I was out of luck. Taking me to a window seat in the middle of the room, Faramir opened the book… and I scanned the inside with a sinking heart, unable to read the words that had been waiting for me all these years…

Strangely, I felt like crying. It had been so long since I had read any book - now here was one offered to me, something important for me to read and learn from…and I couldn't identify even one of the letters. Hopefully it wasn't that I had forgotten! Oh, if I changed back and couldn't read again, it would kill me…

Looking up at Faramir in despair, I was surprised to see understanding again dawn in the man's eyes. Turning the book back to himself, he studied it carefully, then nodded.

"I see. You cannot read the ancient script. It took a bit of learning for me too, I remember now. Please accept my apologies, Lady. Come, sit with me." He patted the seat beside him. "I shall read it to you."

In an almost forgotten glow, the Stone of Friendship began to shine softly, a new source of light emanating gently from the direction of my throat. Sincerity joined it in a gentle green glow, swirling comfortingly around me, bringing peace to my worried heart.

'_Come, Stonebearer,' _the Stone of Knowledge came to life, whispering into my mind. _'Let us help you!'_

And to my surprise, and Faramir's amazed wonder, a small ray of purple light beamed out from the Stone, enveloping the book and Faramir, and stretching out to include me as well. I closed my eyes and followed the pull of Knowledge, seeing the sign of two interconnected circles in my mind, feeling the stirring in my heart grow stronger. The other Stones were also reacting, and I felt something reaching… reaching… _touching_.

And then I was connected to the Captain, and he to me, and I saw his mouth fall open in a silent "oh" as together we were transported back to the past.

* * *

_Images flashed through my mind, of people and events that I did not know. I recognized Boromir in some of them, Gandalf in some others, even Pippin in another one, clad in armor that seemed to have been sized for a boy. I saw battles and skirmishes and the faces of men and monsters alike, and a quiet cave behind a roaring waterfall where Men turned to face the Sun before partaking of their meal. A ritual, a tradition… And a brother, just returned from battle and then preparing to leave again on a new mission for the father they both loved…_

_Too fast…The flow soon became too rapid for me to even recognize what I was looking at, and it was then that I realized that I was looking at Faramir's memories. Only these weren't what I was supposed to see, and with a twinge of guilt, I pushed away the images and struggled to find freedom beyond them. Purple light danced all around me in almost blinding intensity, and suddenly I felt a guiding presence inside of me, leading the way by telling me where to go._

_I knew when I had found it. The image was surrounded by the light of Knowledge, which was holding it open to me the way Faramir had held open the book for me just a few moments before. I followed the light toward it, and the image flashed quickly into my mind -_

_- A young boy, sitting alone on the same windowseat we had just seen, a black book in his hands and balanced on his lap. It was a younger Faramir, and he was reading aloud to himself, his voice young and strong, clear in the stillness of the library... _

"…_and the Stonebearer was the Champion of the People, and the darkness could not stand against his Light. With a single slice of his blade he slew the Darkness, which broke and ran, never to return…"_

"…_Truth was his Sword, and Courage was his Shield. Faith fortified his weapon and armor, and with all these he bore all the nine Stones of the Light…"_

"_Light was his greatest weapon, and he carried it for the people and with the people. Their faith in him strengthened him, their hope gave power to his Light…"_

"… _the ninth Stone, said to be the greatest of all the Stones, was also the most easily destroyed in an attack, without the protection of the Stonebearer_..._ and when the Darkness struck out in its fear and anger and tried to destroy the Stones, the Stonebearer acted and sent them into safekeeping. But the ninth Stone he kept close to his heart, and he did not let it go, but declared that when the time came again for Light to rise against the Darkness, when need called to need, then its bearer would find it in the one place the Enemy would never think to look, that the Shadow could never truly destroy…" –_

_The vision faded away, and suddenly the voice of Knowledge was there, speaking to me again._

'Stonebearer… do you know? Can you find the Light?'

_And as if from a great distance, I heard Ethyliss' words from the last time I had seen her, the memory wrapped in the purple glow of new Knowledge…_

'…the location of the final Stone will only be revealed when you discover the Light inside…'

_The Light inside? _

_The Stonebearer within me was stirring… no, no. Surely it couldn't be…_

_The Light inside…_

_And with a sudden shock, I realized that the Stonebearer had awakened… and I knew where the final Stone was. _

* * *

Bringing myself and Faramir out of the dreamscape, I returned to the waking world. The sun had risen outside, though it felt that only a little time had passed since we had fallen into sleep. Within me, I felt the knowledge and confidence of the Stonebearer, though I was still myself as well. I was just _complete_, now, in a way that I hadn't been when I'd first been gifted with the Stones.

Faramir had given me that. And I suspected that a certain Wizard had had a hand in pointing him my way, though I couldn't prove it right now. But Faramir had had knowledge that I had needed, and I was grateful enough that I didn't much care whether it had been fate, Gandalf's meddling or something else altogether that had caused our paths to cross.

Speaking of the Captain… he was very much awake, still seated on the window seat, and clearly still a little stunned from what had just happened. He met my gaze, and smiled.

"That was quite an experience, Lady," he murmured. "Thank you."

Shyly, I nodded back. Just as I was wondering how to explain to him that I had to leave… I saw that he already knew. The light of wisdom and inner knowledge was there in his eyes, and he nodded to me.

"You'd better go," he said. "They would have left at sunrise… it's just a little after. I'm sure you can pick up their trail… they'll be headed East. All the best to you, Lady… I have a feeling you're going to need all the good wishes you can get. I'll explain things to your _perian_ friend who is undoubtedly waiting for you in the Houses right now. Now go, and may good fortune run with you, wherever the path may lead!"

Gratefully, I licked his hand and turned to run. Energy filled me from the tip of my tail to my paws… I was ready. Faramir was right. My destiny lay not here in this uncomfortable city of white stone – but East, with battle and shadow. And thanks to the Stones, I knew I had all the strength that I needed to face it and whatever fate that might be awaiting me there. And now, with an actual goal in mind, I could finally set forth… and run free.

* * *

Thanks for reading, please do drop me a review! I might be busy but I will read your reviews, they encourage me and inspire me to keep going! :) To those who have been with me since the start, please let me know if you're still reading and to those who have just found my fic, please, I love to hear your thoughts and views on my little fic!

Once again, I apologize for the slow updates! However, I'm sure we all understand that real life can be demanding, and I will do my best to keep updating, all right? I will! I won't give up on this fic and neither should you!

Happy New Year to those who celebrate the Chinese New Year, and thanks again for reading!

Please review!

RK9.


	46. Of Destiny and Dark Places: Part One

**Disclaimer:** Let me put it this way. I own two cans of iced apple tea, a great dog named Fae, and Lady. Lord of the Rings and recognizable stuff belongs to Tolkien, and Livira belongs to dangergurl.

**Author's note:** So my finals ended a week ago, but somehow I missed the email from my beta saying she cleared chapter 18 and chapter 19 for uploading... my bad. 0.0 My term break ends this Friday, after that it's time for the short semester and it's going to be awful because it's four classes per subject a week instead of the usual two, and I will be taking three subjects. Beautiful. Moving on...

Thank you to all who reviewed the last chapter, and sorry that I cannot reply to all of you. One of you did ask me that, having worked on this fic for over two years... whether I was bored of it by now, and do I think it's worth it? Well, it's fun, and it's something I enjoy doing, and I generally tend not to do things that I don't consider worth doing. This story was definitely worth writing, and worth finishing, and I can promise I'll finish it, even if my updates are slow and I don't really have much time to write anymore. But I will get this done, and neither writer's block nor computer breakdowns nor internet connection deaths will stop me! ... Well, okay, they might hinder progress, but I'll keep writing when I can!

Cairine the Elf Hearted - I stopped role playing a year ago, I didn't have the time or the interest anymore. As for when Lady will find out about Estel.. well... that comes later. Right now, she just doesn't have enough information or clues - really, in real life, if we hadn't watched the movie or read the books, I doubt we'd know if we were in Lady's position... Yeah, I was trying to keep it real, because Lady isn't a mind-reader or whatever and it would be a bit unrealistic if she suddenly went - "Oh, so that's why he reminds me of Estel, he IS Estel!" plus it's just not important in the storyline right now. So yeah - patience, eh? ;) I guess we can safely say it will be within the next five chapters. I don't think I have the skill or the patience to drag the ending on past another ten chapters or so...

Dylan - I understand. I don't like her either, nor that song in particular, but the lyrics happened to work. You are not alone, I saw a lot of rotten veggies flying at me last chapter. I might even have tossed a few of them at me too! ;)

To everyone else - here is chapter 18. ;) Thank you for still being here.

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**Chapter 18**

I have nothing against Gondor, or other human cities like it, but it still felt as though I had been released from captivity as I descended level after level, racing past the startled guards at each Gate and through the streets like a mad creature, reveling in the sensation of just running. The people turned to stare as I shot past, but I ignored them, feeling the burn in my muscles and the caress of the wind… almost completely lost in the joy of being free.

Free and _enlightened_ – for the Stonebearer was awake within me, and the Stones were alive and bright around my neck. I could feel them humming with energy and power, and it energized me as well, and it felt like I was flying as I soared through the lowest level of the city and raced out through the Great Gate with the sun in my face. Skidding to a halt, I landed triumphantly on the grass and breathed in the sun-kissed air.

I had never before felt so alive.

Ahead of me, I could see the army, with Aragorn at their head, far in front. Gandalf, Legolas, Gimli, Éomer and Prince Imrahil rode with him, and Pippin sat behind Gandalf clad in the same black and silver as the other soldiers of Gondor. He looked nervous, yet at the same time solemn and determined, and I guessed he was missing Merry a lot. It sure was strange to see Pippin without Merry though…

Poor Merry. Casting a guilty look back towards the city, I hoped my little friend would understand. I would stay if I could, but now…

Something was calling to me, from the East, and I knew I had to go. Sure, I was nervous, I was worried. There was an uneasy prickling in the pit of my belly and a voice inside that was suggesting that I not go - that I stay behind and wait where things were safer and surer. But I couldn't. The Stones pulled me East, and for the first time ever, I did not know what they wanted from me. I only knew that my destiny did not wait here with Merry, in the city of white stone. I had to go with Aragorn, had to follow him to whatever end… even if it should mean that by doing so I would meet my own.

Sober now, as the adrenaline rush from running wore down; I weaved silently into the ranks of the men, ignoring their surprised and wary looks, and even near-hostile reactions as they caught sight of the animal I was. Some of them recognized me, but this particular part of the army were mostly Gondorians whom I had not yet met, and so my reception was lukewarm to say the least. Lifting my tail and head high, I marched alongside them, overtaking them one row at a time until I was right behind my friends. Something must have drawn Pippin's attention, because he was the first to notice me, turning with a glad cry of greeting on Shadowfax's back.

"Lady!"

Legolas turned as well in surprise, as did Gimli, Éomer and the prince, and I nodded to each and every one of them in turn. Gandalf chuckled lightly, and I looked up at the Wizard, who was smiling. He stopped and turned Shadowfax towards me, effectively halting the army's progression as Aragorn came riding back from the very front.

"Lady, you shouldn't be here." His expression was stern and disapproving. "I said you were to stay with Merry; you're not fully recovered from your injuries yet."

I dug in my paws and shook my head, tail drooping at his tone. The Stonebearer was strangely shaken by his disapproval, and now that she was awake, her unhappiness became mine. Ears folding flat against my head, I stared up at him wide-eyed as a voice flashed quickly through my mind – along with flashes of memories that were not my own.

_- 'Don't make me go back. My place is with you.' -_

_- 'I have to keep you safe. You are not ready.' -_

_- 'This is as ready as I'll ever be. Please, don't leave me behind again.' –_

"Aragorn." Gandalf cleared his throat, eyeing me thoughtfully as I shook my head to clear away the visions. The voices faded as I focused on the Wizard's voice, and the friend-scent that was surrounding me. Back in the present, I realized that Gandalf was murmuring something to Aragorn that even wolf-ears could not catch, and after a moment, Aragorn merely nodded and sighed, turning Brego to return to his place at the head of the army.

For a moment, I just stood there uncertainly, wondering what Gandalf had said and what was to happen now. Then, Aragorn turned and nodded to me.

"Come, Lady," he called, and my ears pricked as I obediently bounded over to join him, moving to his side. Bending down, he gently rubbed a hand over my head, and murmured, "Maybe Gandalf has a point. You can take care of yourself, and it is not my place to tell you what you should and shouldn't do. I forgot – you have your own path to take, and I have no say in that."

As I looked into his eyes, I saw friendship and affection… and wondered why his face seemed so familiar. It was the echo of another face I had seen and loved long ago – namely, Estel's, when he had come to say goodbye to me before I moved away.

Aragorn gave my head one last pat. "Maybe it's because you remind me of her," he muttered strangely, and straightened in his saddle, nudging Brego and moving off once again. Puzzled, I wondered whom he meant, then shrugged, falling into step by Brego's side.

Beyond the sun, I could hear the siren call of mixed danger and destiny, and before I could really think about what I was doing, I stepped forward and set my course directly towards it, knowing that from here on out, faith, hope and love would be all that was guiding me… into the land where the shadows lie.

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It was a long and tiring journey, not unlike the one we had made from Edoras to Dunharrow not too long ago – though it felt like an entire age had come and gone since then. The wolf in me did not tire, but we stopped for a brief rest anyway because the men certainly did.

The land was starting to look barren and rocky, unfriendly and gray in a way that sent chills down my spine. There was a general feeling of darkness in the air, and spirits were starting to flag. The seriousness of the situation was finally starting to weigh down on me, and it was a struggle to keep my spirits up and the Stones lit. I was tired and afraid – but then, we all were.

It was while I was stretched out beneath the shadow of a large rock that Gandalf finally came to me, though at first he did nothing but sit down beside me and offer me a strip of dried meat, which I gratefully accepted. The Wizard stroked my fur as I ate, massaging out the knots and tangles, and removing burrs that I had collected along the way. He had a thoughtful frown on his face, but all he said when I was done eating was, "I hope you're ready for what is to come, Lady."

I arched a questioning eyebrow at him. That sounded like he knew more than he was telling me. He shook his head.

"The Stones can only bring you so far," he told me, as serious as death. "For the rest, you will have to trust in your instincts and go where your heart leads you. Though you are the Stonebearer and carry that heavy burden of destiny, your fate is not sealed in stone. You still have a choice that you, and only you must make. And in the end, you still have your curse to break…"

I met his gaze, and was surprised to see sadness within the wise, gray depths. Why was Gandalf looking… like that?

But then he looked away, and patted me gently one last time. "Come, little one, we must go. They are calling… it is almost time."

Time for what?

Trust that Wizard… at a time like this, he was still speaking in riddles?

Entertained only by my own uncertain thoughts, I ran alongside Aragorn once more as we travelled further and deeper into these long forsaken lands. I found myself wishing for a glimpse of something green and growing, anything that could survive amidst the dreary lifelessness of this place. But there was none. I swore I would never take even weeds for granted again. It was just too quiet here… and really, the only living things here weren't exactly creatures that we wanted to meet.

A small patrol of orcs ambushed us as we ventured nearer to the Black Gates, but those were easily dispensed with – a minor skirmish with few serious injuries or fatalities. Aragorn recognized it for what it was: a feint, meant to lure us into a false sense of security, to think that our Enemy was weaker than he truly was. As we were about to move on from there, however, the Stones flickered in warning, and I turned to see some of the men looking uncertainly at Aragorn.

Either too young to have fully grasped the gravity of this mission, or old enough that 'Mordor' was but a name from their childhood that they had long ago forgotten how to fear, these men from Rohan and Lossarnach were clearly having second thoughts about going on. Their fear filled the air, a sour stench that made me turn away, but though my first reaction was to be angry at their cowardice, after a while I understood. After all, I was scared too. Had I not been determined to stay by Aragorn's side and see this through to whatever end, I might be thinking twice about going on too.

Aragorn looked at them, and I was near enough to see the pity in his eyes. There was understanding in his voice as he said, "Go! But keep what honor you may, and do not run! And there is a task which you may attempt and so not be wholly shamed. Take your way south-west until you come to Cair Andros, and if that is still held by enemies, as I think, then retake it, if you can; and hold it to the last in defense of Gondor and Rohan!" And so saying, he turned and left them to make their choice.

The men glanced at each other, and bowed their heads. I glanced after Aragorn… and the only word I could think of to describe what he had just done was "mercy". He had shown them mercy, and given them a way out that allowed them to retain their honor. He had given them new hope. I bowed my head to the men and followed his example. They would have to make their own choices here.

Some of them rejoined us, some left for Cair Andros. A few of them I knew, having recognized some of them from Dunharrow, or from the battle on the Pelennor before I'd been taken away by the Witch-King – but no, I will not name and shame. They were still here, and for me that was redemption enough that their momentary surrender to fear and despair could be forgotten. As for me, I kept going, and by the end of the day we finally reached the Black Gates.

It was a tall, sturdy structure, made of iron, stretching towards the sky, standing between two craggy rock faces, huge and intimidating and stern. We formed ranks before it, and then a watchful silence fell. Everyone was nervous, on edge, highly alert to any and all sounds or movement. But no one came. No one answered the herald's challenges. The horses shifted restlessly, and a feeling of foreboding began to build deep within my heart.

I knew what this was: the calm before the storm. Still waters ran deep… and who knew what lurked below in their depths. Beside me, Pippin was fidgeting as he scanned the landscape.

"Where _are_ they?" he wanted to know.

Where indeed?

Frowning, Aragorn clicked to Brego and took off unexpectedly towards the Gate. The rest of the Captains of the West followed, after only a moment's hesitation. Once I got over my surprise, I followed as well, eyeing the ground and trotting forward with only the barest hint of hesitation. You'd think there were hidden mines in the ground, for all the apprehension I felt about approaching the Gates.

But there was a foreboding deep within my heart, and the Stones blazed brighter as the Ranger came to a halt just before the dark gate; though what exactly they were reacting to I wasn't sure.

"Let the Lord of the Black Land come forth! Let justice be done upon him!" Aragorn called out clearly, and his words echoed back almost mockingly from the rocks all around us. I growled… and then the gates opened with an ominous creaking and grinding noise.

Well, it was a response.

Muscles coiling like a spring, I tensed and crouched low. The wolf fought me, but the Stones flared up warningly and she shrank back. I remembered Edoras – but no, she wasn't in charge anymore, and I wasn't about to let her take the reins either. I would no longer let my past affect my future – I was stronger now.

Still, it took almost all my courage to lift my head and look up as a dark figure emerged, riding a dark horse. Robed in black with silver armor, all I noticed about it at first was its teeth, and the awful stench that surrounded it. Gagging, I backed away behind Shadowfax and Firefoot, Éomer's horse, ashamed that I alone of our entire group was reacting to the creature – I could hardly believe that was a man!

But man he was, or had been once, for he was no orc either. His teeth were brown and rotted, and his breath stank like carrion… and it was my misfortune that the wind came from behind him and was blowing our way. I couldn't make out any other features beneath the black helm he wore – but really, I had seen more than enough of him by this point. He bared his teeth in a sinister smile, and when he spoke, his voice was deep and rough and rancid.

"My master, Sauron the Great, bids thee welcome," he rumbled, and again flashed that sorry excuse for a smile. "Is there any in this rout with authority to treat with me?"

Gandalf faced him, stern-faced and straight-backed. "We do not come to treat with Sauron: faithless and accursed. Tell your master this: The armies of Mordor must disband. He is to depart these lands, never to return."

"Ahah!" The Mouth grinned mockingly, recognition in his sneer. "Old Graybeard." He chuckled. "I have a token I was bidden to show thee." And with a quick flash of silver, he yanked out something and held it high.

It was a shirt made of interwoven _mithril_ rings, and we of the Fellowship had all seen it before. A cry of horror went up from Pippin, before Gandalf hissed for him to be silent – though the Wizard was trying hard not to let his own dismayed reaction show as well.

"Frodo," whispered the hobbit, eyes wide and horrified, fixed on the shining silver shirt. The evil messenger grinned again and tossed it to Gandalf, who barely caught it and held it close to his chest, the sheen of tears in his eyes.

"The Halfling was dear to you I see," grinned our host, very satisfied with himself and our reactions. Frodo's scent floated down to me, mingled with the scent of other creatures and things I did not know, and I struggled to control myself as emotion surged within me.

Inside, I was falling apart, and it showed as the light of the Stones flickered erratically, following the unstable, too-fast beat of my heart.

"Know that he suffered greatly at the hands of his host. Who would've thought," he paused for morbid reflection, "That one so small could endure so much pain?"

That did it.

Before I knew what I was doing, I growled and lunged forward, only to be stopped at a curt call of my name from both Gandalf and Aragorn. The thought of Frodo… dear, brave little Frodo…

Trembling, I could barely think straight, though I knew I had to gather myself together. The Mouth sneered down at me.

"Oh, it's _you._"

Fur bristling, I stood there and glowered at him. I didn't know anymore if I was scared or angry or just mad with grief. My emotions were surging through me, too fast for me to hold back, and faced with this hideous creature and his mockery, all I knew was that it was time for him to stop talking. Deceit rang in his words, and suddenly as I remembered Saruman atop his tower I knew that this was what our Enemy did best. He destroyed hope, put out our light. He used deceit and duplicity and despair to weaken us and hide what he feared most – our own inner light. The darkness by itself could not put out Light… but if they could cause Men to put it out by themselves, to forget to shine while despair and fear took hold…

As I thought this, Aragorn rode forward, catching the attention of the creature and drawing forth yet more dripping mockery. The newly returned King ignored the verbal darts, and suddenly with one quick action he whipped out Andúril and sliced off the Messenger's head, leaving it to drop with a thud on the ground. My eyes widened, and we all just kind of stared…until Gimli remarked dryly: "I guess that concludes negotiations."

That was sure one way to put it.

Facing us again on Brego, Aragorn's gaze was a mixture of defiance and determination. "I do not believe it," he declared. "I will not." He locked gazes with Gandalf and the two of them seemed to reach some silent agreement. "Frodo is still alive, I know this in my heart."

We all nodded, though Pippin hesitated and looked at the shirt that Gandalf had put away safely before slowly agreeing. I felt something stirring, deep within me… and then there was the symbol of the sun rising over the mountains, and golden light poured from my throat in a steady glow, spreading gently over us all.

Behind us, the Gate began to creak and grind once more, but we turned to face it with weapons drawn.

"Fall back!" Aragorn ordered. "Fall back!"

Turning, we followed his lead to where the men were waiting, shifting nervously, all eyes on the Gate. I had just turned to face it myself when I heard mocking laughter in my head, and froze.

_Hello, Lightwalker. We meet again._

And there, at the head of the massive army that was currently pouring out from behind the gates, was the slender figure of my nemesis, the child of the dark: Dâgbûrz, the black panther. And as our gazes met, I knew with sinking certainty that indeed, as Gandalf had been saying earlier… it was time.

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RK9, who will put Chapter 19 up as soon as a few last minute edits are done.

Please review. :)


	47. Finding the Light: Part Two

**Author's notes:** Well, as promised, here's the edited Chapter 19. :) My new semester is starting soon, so I wouldn't expect any more updates until my next term break at least, but well... if I can I'll be working on Chapter 20 and 21. :) I do hope to finish by the end of the year, but we'll see how my schedule goes.

I do hope people won't hate me too much after this. (cringe) Please throw the rotten fruits instead of the eggs.. eggs hurt when they break on a person's body, lol.

And **Black Wolf-Dog**, well done! I think you were the only one who got the reference to the DVD extra features in the last chapter - yes, I wrote the mine field bit after hearing that the location where they filmed the Black Gates scene was on an army base, and the ground there had a lot of hidden mines... and they actually had to remove a mine while the actors and crew were there to make it safe for them to film... lol.

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**Chapter 19**

As the orcs swarmed from the gates like ants from a disturbed nest, I understood what it was like to be a mouse in a trap. Sauron's army came at us from the front and both sides, a deadly crescent-shaped assault that closed in on us like a set of pincers… and we were trapped in the middle. I could smell the men's fear; feel them moving as they shifted nervously around me. It was taking all of their courage to stay where they were, and not to run or break their ranks. Grips tightened on weapons, prayers were murmured, and we all of us waited for someone to direct us, someone to tell us what to do. Aragorn did not fail us, riding back towards us as he cried, "Hold your ground! Hold your ground!"

Reining in Brego, he met the gaze of every man and addressed us all, in that moment looking every bit a King and leader of Men, nothing like the scruffy Ranger whom I had first met and grown to care for since joining with the Fellowship. He wasn't Aragorn - and yet he was, as strong and inspiring as ever, and his words rang through the foul air with a golden glow that shone with Hope and Courage.

"Sons of Gondor, of Rohan! My brothers! I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the heart of me! A day may come when the courage of men fails, when we forsake our friends and break all bonds of fellowship. But it is not _this_ day. An hour of wolves and shattered shields, when the age of men comes crashing down. But it is _not_ this day! This day we fight! By all that you hold dear, on this good Earth… I bid you stand, Men of the West!" And with a determined light in his eyes, he drew forth his sword, and as one the men followed his lead. His words had given us all heart, and I could feel the men's courage renewed around me, igniting the Stone of Courage and filling me with an inner warmth.

This might well be our final stand, but by golly, we would make it our best. And if we survived, I might even forgive Aragorn's little crack against my species… an 'hour of wolves', indeed.

'_We're here too, Stonebearer. We are always with you.'_ Closing my eyes, I let out a breath as I nodded to the Stones… and then I opened my eyes, and turned as one with the Men to face our enemies.

'_Steady!_' warned the Stone of Knowledge, and for the first time, I looked up into the distance… and saw the Eye that had once haunted my dreams. I froze in place, feeling the wolf surging restlessly within me, my control on her slipping as though I was holding onto her with greasy hands. She knew where we were, could feel the pull from the Eye and the land. But it was not until this moment, here, when I beheld the current form of my Enemy – her Master – that I understood the power he had over her.

It hadn't been so long ago that Ethyliss had assured me that I was not the wolf. And I wasn't – I was myself, in the body of one. And yet, as I felt her rage against me, felt the emotions buried within her mind that was joined to mine… I understood. I was not the wolf. But for the amount of time that I had been in her form… been _her_ – I might as well have known her as I knew myself. We were connected, had been from the time the curse had brought us together. I was the wolf, and she was me. Like it or not, she was a part of who I was now.

The darkness inside of me made corporeal.

That was what Saruman had meant. I could not break this curse. The wolf could not be removed or killed, to do so would be to destroy a part of myself. And what did that mean? That this was who I would always be?

"Lady?"

I looked up, meeting Gandalf's gaze. Shaking my head, I put aside my worries, realizing it didn't matter. Whatever my original motives for coming on this journey, now my goal was simply to help my friends. I wasn't sure what had changed along the way – and I would be lying if I said I didn't, in the deepest parts of my heart, still hope to regain my humanity – but right now, all that mattered was us, and this battle… and helping Frodo.

It was why we were here.

The Stones flickered. My ears pricked, but the voice I heard was thought-speech, not an actual physical sound. It was coming… from the Eye.

"_Aragorn. Elessar."_

I stiffened as Aragorn stepped forward, eyes fixed on the Enemy, the flaming Eye atop its tower beyond the Black Gates. The Eye was calling to him, whispering to him in seductive, tempting tones. I saw Gandalf's expression change to worry, saw Legolas and Gimli start as Aragorn kept moving, expression seemingly mesmerized by the giant flaming ball.

And then he turned, and white light surged from all around him, and relief washed over me as he shook his head slightly, and said, "For Frodo."

It was amazing how with two words, he reassured us and put everything back into perspective.

And with sword lifted high he turned back and charged, directly at the gathering of our enemies.

Pippin waited only a second before lifting his own sword and running after him. At another time, I might have laughed at the shorter Hobbit strides, but now, all I saw was the orange glow of Courage that streamed from his little body, surrounding him like fire. And then everyone else was rushing after him, overtaking him within a few steps, but never outrunning the speed of his heart and determination to do his best, and help his friends.

Yes, Pippin had found his courage.

And by revealing it to me, he had helped me to summon mine.

In my mind's eye, I saw the image of a glowing orange sun, and recalled a battle in the woods: myself and the Fellowship against a pack of wolves. Orange light spread over and around me, warming my fur, blazing against my body and lighting the dark, the fire beginning in my heart and materializing outside of me as the Stone of Courage glowed. Surrounded by fire, I raised my head, a challenge burning in my eyes as I raced after the men.

This was how it had all began, and this was how I would choose to have it end.

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"_In times of darkness, one must simply stop searching for the light, and become the glow for others to follow."_

_- Christopher Seymour_

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While I had been summoning my strength, the panther had not been idle. The moment Aragorn started his charge, she released her Master's army with a roar, and darkness seeped from her Talismans, slithering across the ground towards the men like shadowy snakes. Without thinking, I responded instinctively, sending the red light of Love to counter her darkness, arcing over the men in a tidal wave and curving to form a barrier over each and every one – not unlike what I had done in the last battle on the Pelennor Fields. Only this time, I felt different.

Never before, when I used the light of the Stones, had I been able to direct their glow. And never before had I been able to _feel_, deep inside, the actual emotion that I was guiding. In this case my own love for the men and my friends was bubbling up within me like water from a fountain, and I found that the light grew stronger, bending here and there according to my will. If I urged it to protect my friends more than the rest of the men, it did so. If I wanted to protect a certain man more than the rest, it obeyed. And with a sense of deep wonder as I felt the connection between my own feelings and the Stone of Love, I spread the light out over everyone, and watched with some degree of awe as the darkness beat ineffectively against it, raging against my protective shield of Love.

I heard Dâgbûrz scream with rage, far in the distance, and fiercely increased the glow of the Stones. Charging forward, leaping past my friends, I darted past the grasping tendrils of darkness and started joining the men in the fighting. I took down about two orcs before the panther was suddenly there, standing before me, amber eyes smoldering with barely-contained rage as she screamed at me, with the voice only a panther could use.

_**- So, you think you have won? You have awakened the Stonebearer – oh, very clever! – but you are still not the match of me! - **_Fangs bared, she leapt at me with claws extended, wasting no time in attacking the way she had the last time we had fought.

Back then, I hadn't been in any condition to battle her. But something had changed, I wasn't sure what, and calmly I bared my own fangs and met her head-on.

Maybe it was my acceptance of what had to be done, or the fact that I no longer feared death. Perhaps it was the Stonebearer within me, or the fact that I wasn't exhausted and injured…badly…yet. Or maybe it was my determination to do what I could to help my friends. I don't know. But now I felt… complete, somehow, and instinct guided my every action. When Dâgbûrz sliced with a paw, I batted it back. When she knocked me down, I got back up. When she bit into me with fangs and ripped, I snapped back, clawing wildly with my own paws. We broke apart and stood, chests heaving as we caught our breath, and the Stones all flared into light that made her flinch. But her Talismans reacted, and darkness poured forth again from all nine of them.

I stiffened and growled as the darkness began to threaten the men and my friends.

The panther's eyes gleamed as suddenly she saw my weakness.

_**- I count seven Stones, and an entire army of men who are easy prey, -**_she said, and bared her fangs in a dripping, smug smile. _**- Counter this, if you can. -**_

"Lady!" My ears flicked towards Gandalf's voice, somewhere behind us in the throng of men and orcs. The sounds of battle around us nearly distracted me, and the wind whipped away his words, but I could _just_ hear him, and the desperation in his tone. "Lady, the Stones! Use them now!"

My eyes widened as I nodded, and closed my eyes to set the Stonebearer free.

The first Talisman exploded with shadow, like a river overflowing its banks. The dark ray seeped out, heading directly for some men nearby from Rohan and Gondor, who were fighting side by side. They didn't see it coming, but my Stonebearer instincts picked up on the waves of Fear and countered with a blast of pure orange, driving back the shadow. The panther grinned and sent out Despair from her second Stone, which I countered with brilliant, golden Hope. Next came a dual attack from Deceit and Discord, and I sent out Sincerity and Friendship to deal with those. Dâgbûrz threw out Duplicity, and smirked, and for a moment I was floored – the Stone of Reliability I did not have.

But then I sagged with relief, for Reliability came on its own, as I looked to Aragorn and remembered Faith. From far away beyond the Gates I saw the brilliant white ray rising, and Duplicity slunk slowly back to its Talisman, making the panther scowl and hiss in my direction. For revenge, she attacked with the remaining three: Ignorance, Cruelty and Hatred, and as I met each Darkness with the respective Light, she threw her head back – and overwhelmed me as she released the final Talisman: Darkness.

The sheer power of the final shadow threw me and some of the men around me back several feet. We none of us could get back up, and the Stones flickered desperately as I struggled to get back on my paws, feeling as though a herd of wild bulls had just stampeded over me – what was that?

The men began to falter, and desperately I forced myself back on my paws. Swaying, I looked for my friends. The sky was dark, streaked with angry red. The Eye seemed to mock us, laughing as men fell around me, and others fought on. And worst of all… I looked up into the sky as eerie screeches tore through the air – the Nazgul, and their foul riders! They had come!

What now? What could I do?

"Lady!" Again, Gandalf's voice came to me, and I turned to see him pushing through the throng towards me. His gaze pinned me, and I stopped, tired, beaten, almost unable to stand. His expression softened, but his eyes stayed grim as his mouth formed words, words that I saw more than heard…

"_If you look around, and all you can see is the darkness, then close your eyes and remember the light."_

Obediently, I closed my eyes.

I saw Gimli and Legolas fighting, side by side, bound together by powerful, firmly forged bonds of Friendship. I saw Merry, remembered his simple Courage, remembered Pippin and his determination to fight for his friends. I saw Aragorn, hearing again his words, seeing him facing the darkness head on, going against all odds. Gandalf, returned to us from the depths of Moria…

Éowyn as she slew the Witch-King, Théoden and his faithful courage. Éomer, riding with his men towards Helm's Deep, loyal and brave and true.

And then, I saw Sam and Frodo, Sam carrying Frodo and his burden as they struggled up a rocky path, surrounded by the solid white light of Reliability and Faith.

And deep within me, I felt the light begin.

The images of my friends began to shimmer and glow, mingling together until all I could see was an aurora of bright, blinding Light. Slowly, the glow turned pink, an image forming, a bud opening out into the symbol of an eight-petaled flower that turned slowly around before my mind's eye.

The only thing feared by the Darkness, simply because this was the only thing it could not frighten or defeat.

Light.

The ninth Stone: the Stone of Light.

When I opened my eyes, I found that I was no longer on the battlefield, no longer swaying on unsteady legs among the men. Instead I hovered high in the air above the battle, surrounded by a circle of rainbow-colored lights, held up by the power of the Stones alone. I could not see the panther, but I saw all my friends, saw Gandalf staring up at me with mingled wonder and relief. Around my throat, the weight of my chain had lessened, and I frowned as I realized that the Stones… were gone. But in their place was a single, pink Stone, which was shining and glowing with brilliant pink Light.

Gandalf and Ethyliss – and the book - had been right. All this time, the final Stone had been inside of me, the Light waiting to be released once again. It had been within me, within my friends… within us all, even in the men.

And with the new Stone, came the knowledge that it was not for me to use. Its power was too great, the responsibility too heavy. No single person could command it, and it wasn't mine to command anyway.

The Light… belonged to everyone.

And I would give it to them, that in this darkness, in this place where the Shadow had taken over – they would be able to let their own Lights shine.

And I would give a special portion of it to Frodo and Sam, over in the mountain of fire with their burden, in the hopes that it would give them strength.

The Light was within me, around me, all over me… I scanned the faces of my friends, watching as Legolas sliced through the orcs, dancing with his knives near Gimli, whose axe never stopped moving. Éomer was weaving through the throng, taking down orcs wherever he moved. Pippin waved to me, eyes wide, before focusing on something behind me, something which filled him with wonder, hope and joy. Gandalf dipped his head – he alone among my friends understood what came next, what I had to do. And Aragorn – facing down a massive troll more than twice my size.

'_This is what we chose you for,' _Knowledge whispered softly to me, and I wondered at the fact that I could actually hear a tinge of sadness in its tone. _'I'm sorry. But we had the faith that you could and would do what needed to be done. You were born for this, to carry the Light, to set it free once more.'_

I heaved a sigh. _Will any of this matter? Will it help them? _

'_It will matter, more than anyone will ever know or appreciate. And it will give them a chance. Never underestimate the strength of the Light. Too long now has passed since it was hidden away. It is time for the Shadow's reign to end. This is your curse… it is also your gift. And no one can make this choice but you.'_

For a moment, the Stonebearer within me fell away, and I was myself again – wolf, woman, human, Elf… and very much afraid. And then, my heart moved, and I saw my friends and knew what I had to do. They had all given so much, done so much in this war. It was my turn to help them, the only way I could.

And so I closed my eyes and gave myself to the Light, and the Light gave of itself to my friends, and I knew no more.

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"_From within or from behind, a light shines through us upon things, and makes us aware that we are nothing, but the light is all." ~Ralph Waldo Emerson_

"_Love is, above all, the gift of oneself." ~Jean Anouilh_

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RK9.

Please review. :) See ya next chapter!


	48. Faith and Friendship

**Disclaimer: **(hammers a "Not Mine" sign into the ground and sighs)

**Author's notes:** I was going to be mean. I was going to stretch this out for another chapter, but I couldn't do it. I got homesick and started writing, and here's chapter 20. :) This chapter is - surprise! - not in Lady's POV. We will return to that in the next chapter. It was a little hard to write for this character, but I hope I did all right. Hope you enjoy...because I have no idea when in this semester I will have time to write again...

Thanks for your continued support!

**More notes (31/12/2010): **Added a poem to the end of the chapter. :)

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**Chapter 20 **

**Legolas**

In the years to come, all I would ever remember of the battle before the Black Gates was the blur of the fighting, the worry for my friends, the fear that I might not survive to make my journey across the Sea… and the Light, the glorious Light, as it returned to the darkened land and swept over us in a tidal wave, one that strengthened and encouraged and gave us that little something 'extra' that we had needed to keep fighting on.

I had felt this before at Helm's Deep, but now I felt it again. And this time, the Light seemed purer, stronger, filled with love and hope and faith, friendship and trust and courage, and more besides. In this hour of darkness, it was a sweet breeze that stirred our hearts and reenergized our aching bodies, reviving flagging spirits that had quickly been descending into despair. And it touched everyone, all of us who weren't fighting on the side of the Shadow - even the Eagles who had come and were now doing battle with the Nazgul and their fell beasts in the sky.

For a moment, I closed my eyes, allowing myself but a moment of respite. The Light had given me peace, and for a moment I believed that this battle, hopeless as it seemed, might actually be won. But then the Light wrapped itself around me, pulling gently at me until I opened my eyes again, before beckoning urgently to me as it slid over the ground.

_Come, quickly!_

Following the silent call, I turned and looked up – and froze.

Aragorn!

My friend was caught beneath the foot of a massive hill troll, struggling to free himself as the creature stepped down on his chest, bellowing triumphantly and blinking with large, bleary eyes. My eyes went wide with fear, and before I knew what I was doing I began to fight my way through the crowd, pushing my way past friend and foe alike, my mind focused on the task of reaching my friend. The Light ran beside me, leading me on, and I reached grimly for an arrow, eyes locked on the enormous troll. Maybe I couldn't pierce its hide, but I'd settle for distracting it right now, turning its attention away from Aragorn, maybe even get it to step off him…

Well, a distraction came all right. But perhaps not the kind I'd been expecting. Suddenly, the creature turned, and Aragorn found himself unexpectedly free as it lifted itself off him, and began to move away, its movements jerky, confused. In fact, all of Sauron's minions paused, and around us, I saw fear and doubt begin in our enemies' eyes, and their limbs trembled and their weapons fell. Above us, the Nazgul whirled, breaking away from the Eagles and turning their foul steeds towards the Towers of Teeth, and the Great Eye.

A terrible shriek pierced the air, the ground trembled, and the men began to falter. But then Gandalf's voice called clearly, "Stand, Men of the West! Stand and wait! This is the hour of doom!"

And even as he spoke the earth rocked beneath our feet. Then, rising swiftly up, far above the Towers of the Black Gate, high above the mountains, a vast, soaring darkness sprang into the sky, flickering with fire. The earth groaned and quaked. And the Towers of the Teeth swayed, tottered and fell down; the mighty rampart crumbled; the Black Gate was hurled in ruin; and from far away, now dim, now growing, now mounting to the clouds, there came a drumming rumble, a roar, a long echoing roll of ruinous noise.

I will never forget that sight either, the most glorious in all my years on Arda. The Tower fell, the Eye shimmered and shook and dissipated into nothingness. And all around us, a great burden seemed lifted right off our hearts, and we were free. Reaching up, I wiped the tears from my eyes, not even knowing exactly why I was weeping, nor what for, but only knowing that it felt perfectly natural and right for this moment in time. Within me, joy was beginning, a surge of rising emotion, and I did not need Gandalf's announcement to tell me that the reign of Sauron was finally - _finally_ - over.

"The Ring-bearer has fulfilled his Quest," Gandalf said, wiping his own tears away. And as we stood there gazing south, hardly heeding the panicked rush of Sauron's former forces as they registered the loss of the power behind them and ran for their lives from the place, it seemed that there rose a huge black shape of shadow, impenetrable, lightning-crowned, filling all the sky. Enormous it reared above us, stretching forth a vast threatening hand, terrible but impotent. And even as it loomed above us, a great wind took it, and it was all blown away, and passed, and a great silence fell.

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_"Throughout time, there has always been tyrants and murderers that seemed invincible. But they always fall. Always."  
-Ghandi_

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We could hardly believe it was all over. It took a while, but eventually some of us roused ourselves and began to search through our ranks for the injured, beginning to administer help to those who needed it. The dead were gathered, to be brought back in honor and buried as heroes. I shook myself and went to Aragorn's side, just as Gandalf climbed onto the back of one of the Eagles and waved to us, before taking off into the sky in the direction of the Mountain of Fire.

"He goes to fetch our friends," Aragorn informed me tiredly, one hand gripping his chest, but a look of lightness and relief on his face as he stood there, Andúril still within his grip in his other hand. Meeting my gaze, he smiled. "It's over."

I nodded, feeling the same lightness of spirit and heart as he obviously did. "It is."

And for a moment we stood there, just two friends rejoicing in the end of the Shadow, and the beginning of hope.

And around me, I could still see the Light, bright against the sky. The men seemed unable to see it, but it was clear to me, radiant and victorious, sharing our joy, freed from the Shadow once again.

It was only then that a thought occurred to me, and I turned and began to scan our surroundings, looking everywhere for a glimpse of dark brown fur with salt and pepper markings, or amber eyes that were set in the face of a wolf and yet were all-too-human…

It was around this time that Aragorn paused as well, turning to me and asking slowly, "Legolas? Where is Lady?"

It was with renewed heaviness in my heart that I responded, "I do not know."

Those who did not know my friend as well as I did would have missed it – the widening of his eyes, the sudden clenching of his fingers around Andúril's hilt.

"Where did you last see her?" he asked carefully, looking around as well. "I lost sight of her early in the battle's beginning, she disappeared among the men."

Turning, I pointed out the far distant spot in the sky where Lady had hung, suspended in mid-air, carried and surrounded by the light of her Stones – right before the Light had taken her into itself and she had disappeared. In the heat of battle, with everything going on around me, I hadn't given a thought to where Lady might have gone, to what had happened to her… and it grieved me. How could I have forgotten her?

Briefly describing what I had seen, I let Aragorn push forward through the men ahead of me, recognizing the worry in his haste-filled motions. He stopped just below the area I had pointed out, eyes on the ground, and before I could speak he had knelt, and was digging through the rocks and dirt. When he stood, he was silent, turning to me without a word and showing me what he held in his hands, his gray eyes troubled.

The sun flashed, reflecting off the silver chain, now empty, which had once carried seven Stones of the Light. Lady's chain.

But where was her body?

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The ride homewards to the White City was rather solemn, at least for those of us who had known Lady. The men were joyful, and well they should be – the Shadow had departed, and the King had returned, and a new Age would soon be upon us, hopefully one of peacetime and prosperity. But there were those of us who keenly felt the absence of a certain wolf's presence, loping faithfully and determinedly alongside Aragorn's horse with ears pricked and tail held high.

Aragorn had refused to leave Lady's chain behind. When we were ready to leave, he slipped the newly-cleaned chain into one of his saddlebags and met my gaze. I understood.

It would have been like leaving her behind.

It felt so… strange. Like reading a book and reaching the end, but feeling as though you had skipped a chapter or something along the way. It didn't feel… complete, somehow. We had no closure, because usually when deaths happened we would have a funeral, a last goodbye. But no one could have a funeral without a body. Was Lady even dead?

I remembered the Light swallowing her up, surrounding her…

What had really happened?

Casting a look back over my shoulder, I briefly entertained the thought of riding back and doing a search of my own. Something wasn't right. I might have missed something, something important…

"Fool of an Elf."

The words took me by surprise, and I glared at the Dwarf who had uttered them from his seat behind me on Arod, but to my surprise, he merely chuckled.

"You're thinking of going back, aren't you," he stated – not asked - a knowing expression in his eyes as he looked up at me. "So go back. We'll let Aragorn know, and we'll meet him in Ithilien when Gandalf returns with the hobbits. That lass was real important to all of us, not just you, Legolas. I won't say no to helping you look around for her one last time."

For a long moment, I simply stared at the Dwarf, reining Arod to a halt. Gimli. My friend. An Elf and a Dwarf, friends, after such a long time of hostility between our races…. Who would have thought? And yet I did not regret our friendship – I could not imagine my life now without my friend in it. I did not regret joining the Fellowship and its quest.

I did not regret meeting Lady, nor did I regret coming to care for her as a brother would a sister.

And in all honesty, if she were my sister, I would have turned back by now.

It was with that thought in mind that I clicked to Arod, urging him forward to where Aragorn was near the front of the lines. He paused and looked at me inquiringly as I fell in beside him.

"I'm going back," I said, not wasting words. "Gimli and I will meet you at Ithilien."

He frowned. "Legolas…"

"There's something… I don't know. But I have to go back." Bowing my head, refusing to give in to the grief that welled up at the thought, I added, "At least I hope to find her body, that I might bear her back to be given a proper farewell. Aragorn… please. I have to go back."

Aragorn sighed, hesitating slightly, but he seemed to understand. His hand came up to clasp mine in the Elven way. "Be careful, _mellon nin._ Sauron has been defeated but stay alert nonetheless. His evil might linger in some of the creatures of these lands. Do not assume that this place is safe."

"I'll keep an eye on him," promised the Dwarf, and I resisted the urge to shove his teasing Dwarven behind off my horse.

I had obviously been spending too much time among humans.

Rolling my eyes slightly, I turned Arod, and nodded to my friend. Aragorn would be needed back in Gondor, and when Gandalf returned. As for me, something was calling me back to the last place I had seen Lady, a feeling deep within my gut that I wasn't sure I understood.

Gimli hung on grimly as I urged Arod back, back towards the battlefield and the ruins of the Black Gate. As I rode, I began to see flashes of pure pink light, light that danced and flickered, before coming together into a steady ray that shone, and I slowed, watching it intently as it streaked ahead of me, as if to guide me.

Gimli's grumbled, "What're you looking at, Legolas?" made me realize that I was the only one who could see it.

"Don't you see it? The light."

Gimli squinted. "What light?"

"Never mind." Stopping Arod, I slowly got down. Lady had disappeared near this place…

The light curved and beckoned, gently summoning me forward.

I followed. The area had several cracks and fissures from the collapse of the Towers, and I was careful to avoid them as I moved. Forgetting Gimli, forgetting Arod, I focused on the light.

It stopped, behind some rocks, and I barely dared to hope. I wasn't sure what I expected to find…

There was a sudden surge of pink light, and then I heard it. A groan. Instantly, I leapt over the rocks and turned to where the sound had come from.

Shock and disappointment stopped me in my tracks.

It wasn't Lady.

It was a dark-haired, pale-skinned woman, clad in nothing but some rags, which barely covered her up. She hadn't been there before, and I had no idea where she had come from, really. I flinched and tried not to look at her nakedness, but just as I would have turned away, I saw it.

There was a scar on her left leg, just below her knee.

I stopped. Why had that caught my attention? A scar – wait!

Images flashed through my mind, of two wolves attacking Lady, one biting her ear, the other sinking fangs into her _left hind leg_….

Dropping to my knees beside the woman, I turned her slightly, mindful of her injuries. There was another scar, a smaller, more jagged one, around the area of her right shoulder.

In my mind, I saw an arrow, sticking out of Lady's shoulder in the very same spot.

There were more scars, more injuries, but by now I was almost certain. I knew this woman! I knew who she had been, and who she was again!

Removing my cloak, I wrapped it around her, covering her up as well as I could. My hands trembled slightly as I lifted her – she was as light as a feather in my arms. My mind conjured memories of myself carrying a wriggling wolf through Moria, and later into Lothlorien…

Hope filled my heart, along with an explosive sort of joy, and silently, I bore the woman with me to where Gimli and Arod were waiting for us.

"Lady, we're going to bring you home," I promised, gently brushing her hair back, tucking it behind her slightly pointed ears. "Hold on, you're safe…. And I'm bringing you home."

And I tried not to grin at the look on the Dwarf's face as he spotted me and the burden I was carrying like a precious treasure in my arms.

Behind me, the last vestiges of the pink light seemed to wink at me, just before disappearing into the darkening evening sky.

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_Do not stand_  
_ At my grave and weep._  
_ I am not there._  
_ I do not sleep._

_ I am a thousand winds that blow._  
_ I am the diamond glints of snow._  
_ I am the sunlight on ripened grain._  
_ I am the gentle autumn rain._

_ When you awaken_  
_ In the morning's hush,_  
_ I am the swift uplifting rush_  
_ Of quiet birds in circled flight._  
_ I am the soft stars that shine at night._

_ Do not stand at my grave and cry_  
_ I am not there;_  
_ I did not die._

_ - Anonymous_

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_

Ta-da!

Please let me know what you thought. :)

RK9.


	49. Author's note

Sorry... this isn't a new chapter. I do have good news and bad news, and news which may or may not be good or bad, depending on how you look at it. Read whichever you want to first. :)

**Bad news**

I am swamped with uni work. I did complete Chapter 21 of Wolfsong during my short term hols and sent it to my beta, but I never got a response from her so I assume she is busy or never got the chapter for some reason... darned email! Now I am still working on a rewrite of Chapter 21, but I got writer's block halfway and stopped to focus on my assignments, figuring if I couldn't write I might as well take a break and work until I got inspired again.

**Good news**

I'm all inspired to write again! And I still have some assignments to do, but because of the break I took I have a clearer picture and new ideas for this fic and how to end it. :) And as soon as I'm done with my assignments I _**will **_write again, and get an update up asap!

**News I'm not sure is good or bad**

I got new ideas for the direction of this fic, but it will mean that the ideas for the sequel I was planning will probably be changed, shelved or scrapped completely. So... what do you all think? Do you really want the sequel I had planned (Legomance) or something else? Or what? ****

Anyway, I'm sorry that it's taken me so long to get an update up. I really thought I could get a new chapter up during my hols, but well...if I'd gotten that chapter up I wouldn't have gotten this new idea and it would probably have been crappy. I thought it was, which was why I was rewriting it. So now I'm hoping to give you something better... but well, that'll still take some time. I'm not planning on leaving this fic without an ending, so don't worry about that. The thing is, it'll take some time. :/ I only hope you all can be patient, and I'll try to make it worth the wait.

To all my loyal readers who are still with me... thank you, and once again, I'm sorry for making you all wait. :(

RK9.


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